


Red

by Simplistically_content



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death towards end, F/F, F/M, Slow build Sterek, Supernatural Elements, Werewolf subspecies, alpha pack, always a girl!Stiles, hunter stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 41,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplistically_content/pseuds/Simplistically_content
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she tells people to call her Little Red, she does so in the most unironic way possible. That said, it’s all pretty ironic really, when you think about it. Given her profession...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I wanted a female hunter Stiles and once I started it just kind of snowballed. I wanted a slow-build sterek too, and while I probably could’ve gone bout it differently, I think that for what it is and what it's trying to say, it came out okay.
> 
> For the sake of the timeline, Stiles is 26 years old in this, 3 or 4 years older than Derek.
> 
> Also, AO3 is making me split this up into two chapters *sigh*

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Stiles fell into hunting when she was small. There wasn’t some existential crisis, nor did something terrible happen to a member of her family. She was happy, well... relatively happy. The fact that her mom died three years before bore no weight on her decision to start hunting. Her dad was reluctant to say the least, but she obliged; she stayed home until she was 16, studied hard, trained hard, learned anything and everything could and when she got her permit, she left, graduating High School a full two years early. A certifiable genius, she figured she’d have time for college when she stopped hunting.

And if hunting stopped her in the mean time? Well... something’s just weren’t meant to be, were they?

That had been 10 years ago.

She never lost touch with her dad, calling him frequently, updating him on all her hunts, both wins and losses. The losses hit her hard, especially when it was people she’d grown attached to, kids, mothers, that were the victims. She soon got a rep in the hunter community. Many tried to ‘take her under their wing’, ‘show her the ropes’, be a gentle old soul to guide, mould, corrupt and poison with hate and disgust for all things Supernatural. She didn’t buy into that crap though 95% of hunters did. They had their code, not that many stuck to the damn thing, and she had hers.

Her mantra of ‘hunt those that live to hunt us’ didn’t make for much pre-emptive movements. She was always too late for one victim, two... sometimes more. All hunters were; there wasn’t much you could do by way of taking down a piece of scum hell bent on killing children in their beds when you’ve no idea they’re even planning anything.

That’s not to say she hadn’t done any good in her time, she remembered every single life she saved directly, a few indirectly. She has each and every name, date, kill in her journals. It warmed her up on the cold nights, to think of all the good she’s done, especially after a hard loss. Kept her focussed, kept her on the ball.

She met decent hunters out there of course, some gave her good advice (Get out while you’re young; you’ve done a lot of good, go on a high), they traded stories, traded secrets, ways to kill certain things, warnings about peaceful members of the supernatural and reasons for their existence. She keeps a lot of that information close to her chest though, only those she knows actually had a heart got that info, and if they didn’t, the supernatural beings she protected got a fair warning.

The first time she meets a vampire, she cocks her head to the side, make’s a ‘so-so’ gesture with her hand and her face before locking herself, and it, in a twenty minute tooth and knife fight that she eventually won. She turned to the hunter who’d been watching from the end of the alley and gave a sweeping bow before turning and walking away, pulling up her red hood.

The red hood became a bit of a thing. It made her laugh - made her dad laugh too, which was always a bonus. She doesn’t wear it every day, but often enough to be known for it; to give them something to look out for. Of course, she learned to keep it under wraps, hide it under a black hood or something similar, but it’s almost always there.

The first time someone calls her Little Red without being prompted, she looked up and straight at mirror behind the bar she’d been propping up, nursing a beer. The dive wasn’t great, but the bottles were clean and the ladies room had toilet paper and soap so she wasn’t complaining. The guy asked about the hood, said he’d heard the stories, wondered if they were true... wondered if a little slip of a thing like her could do the things they say she’d done. Didn’t think it was possible... He continued to talk until she finished her beer, paid for it and jumped down from the stool. The guy who’d been talking caught her arm, stopping her retreat. He asked her outright if she’d gone up against a wolf and her lips twitched, the scar on her left cheek twitching right along with it, almost pointedly.

Her eyes were on the hand that still held her arm and she didn’t move, didn’t waver, didn’t answer until eventually, he let the arm go. She then tipped her head up and met his eyes. She didn’t say a word but he backed away under her gaze, seeming to regret his deepest darkest life choices. She had rolled her eyes and left the dive bar, bumping fists with a few familiar faces on her way out.

She had met a wolf before, their entire world knew it. It’s where she got the scar; it’s where she got many scars. That one hunt. The hunt that put her out for a month, that knocked her down for six, that almost sent her home.

Almost.

She was a tough cookie. She pulled through, obviously, but even though she’d taken out each and every guilty beta who had hurt her or had tried to hurt her thereafter, the alpha had escaped. After making her a plaything for a night, he vanished. The power the alpha had over her betas diminished when she wasn’t there to enforce it, and they got sloppy.

The alpha bitch had called her Little Red completely ironically. It amused Stiles if she were honest. Because, for all she hunted and for all she worked the Little Red name, it was originally, incredibly unironic.

Her hair had red hues in the summer when she grew it out long enough to catch enough of the light.

Simple really.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Her Life...

“Stiles?” she listened to her voicemail and frowned. “I hope this is the right number, he - he told me to call if anything ever happened. Stiles, my name is Deputy Parish and I’m with the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. I need you to call me back on this number as soon as you get this mess-”

She ended the call and dialled the number, already throwing her things into a duffle bag. The ringing stopped after third when she grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash from the grimy old bathroom in the crappy motel.

“Beacon Hill’s Sheriff’s Station, Deputy Parish speaking.”

“You called me a few hours ago,” Stiles said simply, moving around, picking up protection amulets, trinkets, safety pouches, In-Case-of-Emergency bags and had a mixture of salt and mountain ash in them.

“May I ask who is speaking?” The deputy asked and she rolled her eyes.

“Stiles,” she ground out, throwing the bag of dirty laundry in the duffle too, grimacing at the thought of not being able to clean them for a good 10 hours now.

“Miss Stilinski!” Parish breathed, relieved. “It’s good to hear from you. Your father told me-”

“Cut to the chase, Deputy. I’m a busy woman. What’s wrong with my father?” she snapped and heard the man flounder - didn’t smirk when she heard a few chuckles in the background. “You’re new,” she surmised, snorting. “Get on with it then,” back to snapping and he cleared his throat.

“Uh.. yes, I am new. First mon-” ‘She’s likely to gut you if you don’t stay on topic Parish!’ Stiles heard someone shout in the background and recognising the voice, her lips curved upwards in a fond smile.

“Deputy, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with my father in the next 20 seconds, when I get back to Beacon Hills, I’m going to wring your neck, got it?” her tone was conversational, almost sweet, definitely light, and she heard distinct gulping noises along with background laughter noises.

“Your father was attacked while on a routine patrol; he’s been admitted into BHH, is currently in the ICU after major abdominal surgery.” He rattled off some facts about the injuries until there wasn’t anything else left to say and the line went silent - or as silent as the bullpen could get.

“Now, was that so difficult?” She asked and hung up, slamming the door behind her, locking it and going to check out.

Her life!

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Google maps told her the journey would take 10 hours on the i-roads. 11.5 on the back roads. Either way, the State Police had speed traps up and down the country; laws would have to remain unbroken. It still only ended up taking her 9 hours and when she pulled up to the hospital in Beacon Hills, she was dog tired. She was so tired she wasn’t even bothered about having to remove all her metal weaponry. She kept a few non-metal blades/sticks on her in various places so she didn’t feel completely naked but if she were honest, she was just too tired to care.

Walking into the hospital, she sensed them immediately. The itch along her scar, the niggle at the back of her mind, the tingling through the tattoos on her skin... they all told her the supernatural was nearby - more specifically, wolves. When she calmly walked up to the reception desk, she was half thankful the woman sat behind it was on the phone, holding up a finger for Stiles to wait. She smiled, nodding her head, and casually turned to survey the waiting area. Her hood was up, giving her a little privacy and anonymity - which would last as long as it took her to ask after her dad. As she looked, she saw a group of... what could only be described as kids, sat waiting. High school kids at best. Almost all of them were staring at her, frowning, confusion on their face, obviously trying to get through the glamour she’s sewn into the hem of her hood.

“Sorry about that, dear,” the receptionist/nurse person smiled, putting down the phone. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see the Sheriff?” Stiles smiled as the woman froze, her own smile dropping. Stiles pulled her driving licence out and handed it over. “Please?” The woman looked down at the licence, and the name on it and her eyes widened, gasping before quickly nodding. She made a quick call and handed Stiles the licence back.

“Alright dear, go up to the fifth floor, Head Nurse McCall-Stilinski will meet you there.” Stiles’ eyebrow rose at the name and the woman froze again, paling.

“Thank you,” Stiles said. “You’ve been very helpful.” Giving one last look at the waiting area, the inhabitants of which were now trying to glare a hole through her glamour, she walked in the opposite direction towards the elevator.

“Scott McCall!” the receptionist snapped. “Your mother told you all to remain here!”

The elevator doors opened and Stiles’ lips started curling upwards again as the man stood on board stepped forward to get off, not even looking up at her. She moved to let him passed and stepped on. Clearing her throat, she watched him stop and spin around just in time to see the doors close. His face was full of shock and no small amount of fear. Amateurs, she thought to herself with irritation.

The ride up was short and when she stepped off, a familiar nurse was stood waiting in purpose scrubs. Stiles, for the first time since she entered Beacon Hills, pulled down her hood.

“Little Red,” the nurse sighed, stepping up to Stiles and wrapping her in a hug, almost as tight as she remembered them to be years ago. Stiles returned the hug with appreciation and the sheer need to have someone to hold.

“How’s he doing, Melissa?” Stiles asked, pulling away. Melissa bit her lip but didn’t look completely down so Stiles figured it was at least positive news. She was lead down the corridor to a room at the end that had two patrol officers stood outside, on guard.

“Better than he was,” Melissa sighed. “He went into surgery straight away, they cleaned him up, repaired the internal damage and closed him. He’s going to have a belter of a scar but he’ll be alive so I don’t much care about anything else.” They reached the officers and Stiles gave them both a frown.

“Either of you Parish?” she asked and they paled, shaking their heads a negative. Beside her, Melissa chuckled, shaking her head.

“He would tell you to stop torturing his deputies,” the woman rested her hand on the small of Stiles’ back and gestured for her to go inside the room. Stiles, however, shook her head.

“I’m not clean,” she said, face set.

“Sweetheart, he’s wrapped up tight. Nothing’s getting in. There’s hand gel by the door...” It took a few minutes persuading but eventually Stiles went in, hands gloved up, facemask on. She wanted the full kit but Melissa said it wasn’t necessary. “Would you like to be left alone for a few minutes?” Melissa asked and Stiles nodded, biting her lip.

“You might wanna give that receptionist a ring... I may have insinuated I had no idea you took the name Stilinski. She’s probably having a heart attack right now.” She heard Melissa choke on a wet laugh and left. “What the hell did you get yourself into this time, old man?” Stiles muttered, running her hands over her father’s face, not touching, just hovering. It was bruised down the right side, he had an intubation tube in that helped him breathe though Stiles had been assured that it would be coming out soon. He looked like he’d gained an extra 10 inches around the waist with all the dressing they slapped on him after the surgery and the thought made her laugh.

She’d been on at him for years to eat more healthily. Melissa, bless her, had done her best but she didn’t have the spies Stiles had, which was fair enough. No one had the spies Stiles had.

She didn’t stay in there for long - she couldn’t. It hurt too much to see him so still and pale. Walking out, the door closed behind her and she bent over at the waist, breathing hard before her knees bent and she was crouching in the middle of the corridor, head bowed. She tore her face mask off and the gloves and after a minute, managed to calm herself down enough to throw them in the trash.

“Stiles?” Melissa was back and Stiles’ hood was back up. Melissa seemed worried, exasperated, a little scared and Stiles frowned at her.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked and watched her step mother bite her lip.

“What are you going to do for the rest of the night?” she asked. “Where are you going to stay?” Ah, Stiles thought. She knows. Stiles just sighed.

“Well I suppose going to my dad’s house is out,” the woman flushed, looking deeply troubled and apologetic but Stiles rolled her eyes. “I have an apartment in town, Mel, don’t worry. Puppy free zone. I’m trusting you to make sure it stays that way.” Melissa’s eyes widened at the remark, shocked and Stiles resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. “If I see one of them, after seeing that,” she pointed through the glass at her dad. “I won’t be held responsible for my actions,” her tone was low but expression set and Melissa finally nodded, a look of understanding washing over her face.

“I’m sorry Stiles-”

“Don’t apologise. It’s fine. Look, I’ll be by tomorrow okay? You look like you need some rest too. And you haven’t been driving for 9 hours straight.” Melissa broke at that, lips twitching and eventually chuckling, shaking her head. She shooed Stiles off, promising to leave soon and Stiles went with a wave and a pointed look at the two officers.

She took the elevator back down and walked out of the hospital, ignoring the waiting room, ignoring the security and ignoring the receptionist.

“Little Red,” she heard as she reached her car. The door opened but she just stood there, one foot inside, waiting. “What are you doing here?” the voice asked and she snorted.

“I’ve got a better question,” she said and turned around to stalk towards Chris Argent, who had been stood leaning against his truck. He seemed frozen on the spot as she approached and stopped breathing altogether when the tip of a ceramic blade scraped against the skin just under his chin. “Why did the famed Argent’s, Beacon Hills residents no less, sit idly by while something tore apart the Sheriff?” the knife dug in further, drawing blood. “Tell me, Chris, why you let my father almost die?” she snarled and he paled so quickly she thought he’d faint. He reached out blindly, grasping onto what little of his car he could get a purchase on. “Not got any answers for me?” she cocked her head to the side. “No? Do yourself a favour then. Keep yourself and that tiny insignificant speck of a pack away from my dad until I find out what did this. And I swear to whatever Gods you hold close to your old, shrivelled, little heart - if I find out any one of them had anything to do with it - if they had an inkling of what might happen... and you could’ve done something?” she pushed closer and the wound would definitely need stitches. “I’ll see you all burn.” She pushed away and got into her car without another word.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

She wasn’t stupid - getting started the night she arrived would be idiotic and would probably cause more harm than good. She also reasoned that her emotional state wasn’t quite what it should be for the situation at hand, her confrontation with Chris Argent bring a prime example of that fact, so she went to her apartment and after an hour of fitfully trying to sleep, she eventually dropped off.

The sleep, as it stood, did her mental state the world of good. Her anger at the world from the night before dimmed somewhat and she figured her brash approach wouldn’t cut it this time. So already planning, her first port of call after coffee was her dad’s house.

“Hey Melissa,” she said into her phone as she got dressed. “I need to pick up a few things that dad kept a hold of for me. I know where they are, no one should’ve found them. Could I stop round? I’ll be in and out in two minutes.”

“Hey Stiles.. um.. yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll make sure you’re not...” she trailed off and Stiles chuckled.

“Bombarded with questions?” she laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Mel. I can hold my own against puppies. Just get them out of the living room. I’ll be there in ten.” Their goodbyes said, she turned the key in her ignition. Driving through town brought back memories for her; distant ones - uncomfortable ones. She didn’t particularly enjoy coming back to Beacon Hills and had often persuaded her dad to take a week off and visit her out of state for birthdays, holidays and the like. Beacon Hills reminded her not only of the things she’d lost, but the things she could gain and that didn’t sit well in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t finished her work yet, settling down wasn’t in her immediate future.

No matter what anyone said or did. Including her dad.

“Little Red?” there was a tapping on the window of her car door and she blinked, frowning when she realised she was already parked outside her dad’s house. Along with a damn car lot.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, stepping out of her own car. “Did he turn into a used car salesman and not tell anyone?” Melissa chuckled.

“They all belong to the kids,” she explained and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Kids,” she said slowly. “There’s more than one kid living here?”

“Well,” Melissa shifted, a little nervously, biting her lip. “There’s Scott, who you know, who’s mine. And then there’s Isaac Lahey - we took him in after...” she hesitated and Stiles frowned, waiting. “There was some less than stellar parenting going on and-” Stiles stopped her, holding a hand up and shaking her head.

“Stop,” she sighed. “Lahey, okay. I remember his dad being a grade-A douche way back when. Stands to reason it transferred to his home life. It sucks for the kid but he has you now, yeah?” Melissa smiled. “So,” she leaned back against her car, an air of nonchalance about her. “How many of the group that was in the foyer yesterday are of the supernatural ilk?” she asked, watching Melissa freeze and the door to her dad’s house slam open.

“Mom!” she heard a voice shout and Melissa shook her head, unsure what to do.

“I’m guessing your kid’s one of them...”

“Red,” Melissa laid her hands on Stiles’ upper arms, squeezing gently. “He trusts them all implicitly,” she said and Stiles could tell she believed she was telling the truth, so she listened. “He’s like pack to them, we both are. We’re pack and you know packs - family groups. They don’t hurt their own - Scott if you step off that porch you’re grounded until college!” she glared up at the house and Stiles’ lips twitched. “Isaac, you too! And the rest of you don’t test me today!”

“Super mom,” Stiles grinned and Melissa gave her a pointed look too. “What did I do?”

“Please,” Melissa went on without answering the question. “We’re a pack, okay? You know what that means.”

“I also know what it takes to put a man in the hospital with those same injuries,” Stiles commented and they stared at one another for a long, silent minute until Stiles sighed. “I’m not feeling very forgiving right now, Mel. Something hurt...” she paused and shook her head. “I’m not dealing with your pack. If they get in my way-”

“I know, they won’t. They want to know what happened to John as much as you do, I promise.” She hugged Stiles quickly and stepped back, gesturing to the house. “When John wakes up, he’s gonna wanna see at least Scott and Isaac,” she said as they walked towards the house, ignoring the large group of teenagers now stood on the porch, watching them openly.

“Well he and I will have a chat first... it’s nice that he never mentioned the fact that he’s thrown his end in with a pack of wolves. Makes a girl feel all warm and fuzzy, y’know,” Melissa rolled her eyes.

“You know why he didn’t tell you. He knew you’d react like this!”

“For good reason. No one non-human sees him until I’ve spoken with him-”

“Who the hell are you to decide something like that?!” Scott snapped and Stiles just ignored him, turning to walk inside the house. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” the kid leapt after her, grabbing her by the shoulder and pushing her into a wall. The force of the knock dislodged her hood and caused her head to snap against the drywall, rattling the picture frame above her head. She took a deep breath and calmed herself before attempting to continue on her way, only to be stopped again and pushed into the wall a second time.

“Scott!” Melissa shouted but Scott couldn’t answer. The hand gripping his throat squeezed and the kid was staring at Stiles like he knew he’d just put himself in deep water and had suddenly found himself surrounded by hungry sharks.

The gloves Stiles was wearing were special, made just for her. Runes had been etched into the leather, mountain ash used in the tanning process, silver in the stud-work, wolfsbane in the seams, dipped in holy water for added luck. A Russian gypsy had thanked her with them as a gift after she’d saved her family from a vengeful spirit haunting their camp and they were her favourite gloves, handy too - if you’ll pardon the pun. Right now, they were the only thing between herself and a very emotional beta wolf.

She stepped forward, still holding Scott and the kid stepped back. Turning, she moved so he was backing out of the house with each step and when he crossed the threshold, she released his neck and threw a punch to his jaw, sending him flying towards the porch steps with the force of it combined with the gloves. She turned to Melissa, who was staring at the scene, shock written all over her face.

“No one,” she ground out. “Sees him until I’ve spoken with him.” Melissa nodded and Stiles went back inside the house. She grabbed the box she’d hidden in the chimney years ago and went back outside where the pack were surrounding Scott.

“Red,” Melissa said from where she was knelt next to her bruised son. Stiles crossed the threshold and started to walk around the pack to leave. Then, almost as one, they seemed to move so they were blocking her exit path.

“Mel, I’m being very patient right now,” she said, laughing without humour.

“Red-”

“Everyone back off now,” a voice growled and the pack froze before quickly dispersing, leaving Stiles a clear view of someone she absolutely did not expect. She waited until she saw the eyes flash red before her expression turned hard.

“Nice eyes, last time I saw them they were in your sister.” She saw Derek barely hold back a flinch and frowned, surmising that he hadn’t taken the power from Laura, but wasn’t far off.

“Red,” Derek greeted with a nod.

“Alpha Hale,” she drawled, walking down the steps. “You grew up.”

“Six years will do that do you,” the other man replied. “What’re you doing here?”

“Got a call, did not expect you here though. New York not doing it for you?” His eyes creased at the corners and his lip twitched as he shook his head a negative.

“Too busy,” he said and looked up to where she knew Scott was still down. Hale raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “Your handiwork?”

“Your betas?” she retorted and he nodded. “Teach them a thing or two about the real world, big guy. You know, real hunters, real packs... start with the basics. Like... how respectful hunters can’t address a beta from a pack without first meeting the alpha. There’s a good lad,” she patted his chest as she passed him and walked to her car.

“Red,” Hale called out and she looked up after opening her car door. “Why are you here?” she snorted.

“Why does anyone come to a place they hate?”

And she drove away, leaving the betas to the tender mercies of their alpha.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“Good morning,” the officer sat behind the reception desk smiled at her, the smile wavering when she took in the scar on Stiles’ cheek. “What can I do for you today?”

“Hi, can you direct me to Deputy Parish, please?” her smile was sweet and the woman looked confused before nodding and looking over at the bullpen.

“Parish!” she called and the entire bullpen turned to look - only one looked ready to bolt. Bingo. She grinned. After thanking the woman, she calmly walked towards the deputy’s desk.

“Um... good morning, miss? Please, take a se-”

“No thank you. I won’t be here long. Now, tell me deputy, how long have you been working here?” the man gulped.

“A-about... a m-month?” he stuttered and she arched an eyebrow.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” a nearby detective snorted but she ignored the noise.

“A month!” he said quickly, more confidently.

“And I’m assuming to make it to deputy, you had to work as a beat cop for at least five years?” she asked and he shook his head.

“N-not really. I had two y-years in the arm-my bef-fore this position.”

“You don’t sound very confident in your reply,” she said easily, sitting on the corner of his desk. “Tell me, the Sheriff actually trusts you to handle this entire station in his absence?”

“Y-Yes ma’am!” Parish replied a little quicker.

“What does he eat for lunch every day?” she asked and he blinked at her.

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business ma’am,” he was gaining something close to a spine so she pressed on.

“Let’s try this... was he out alone when he was attacked?” he just stared, expression turning blank. She smirked. “That’s one I actually want an answer for, kid.”

“i’m afraid I can’t divulge the-”

“Answer the damn question Parish!” one of the detective shouted and Parish turned to glare at him.

“Back to his lunch habits; does he eat fast food? Does he bring a pack lunch? Does he stuff dollars in that vending machine? What?”

“Ma’am, I think you should lea-”

“I think you should answer my questions,” Stiles interrupted. “Anyone know what the Sheriff eats for lunch?” she asked the entire bullpen and she saw a few guilty faces. “Oh who do you think’s more dangerous? Me or the Sheriff?” she snapped at them all. “No more fast food! No more junk! Got it?” she glared as they all nodded their heads.

“You’re Stiles,” Parish sighed, dropping his head in his hands and she patted his hair gently.

“There there, you’ll get over it. Now, about my father...”

She left the sheriff’s station with fewer answers than she wanted but enough to go on for the moment. She sat in her car and read through the file Parish had been able to give her. Her dad had been out alone checking out the tip the station had received. The tip had been anonymous and even though the police’s version of ‘anonymous’ included recording the number, it had been a dead end. It was a payphone across the street from the incident and it had been cleaned. No cameras were functioning in the area as it was a low crime neighborhood so the local council had been prioritising manpower.

There had been other incidents like this - three in the last three weeks. The first two victims hadn’t survived their injuries, the third was in a coma. No witnesses were available for any of the attacks. The MO had had hits across state lines, but whatever it was, hit for a few weeks then disappeared for a year before popping up in another small town. No measurable pattern, nothing at all. She didn’t recognise any names but knew hunters in a few of the towns mentioned so pulled out her phone and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth before heading out of the police parking lot.

“Call Wesson,” she spoke at her phone and heard the dialling tone before the rings.

“This better be good, Red,” a voice grunted and she rolled her eyes.

“Got a thing, you remember a case about 5 years back in Montana, teenage sweethearts were mauled by what locals thought was a coyote or something?”

“I’ve only been in Montana for two years, Red. Don’t know anything that far back myself. I can make a few calls though; I knew the family that was here before me.”

“Thanks, Wessy,” she smiled at his groan. “Oh buck up, you love it.”

“Yeah yeah, like a hole in the head, Red. What’s got you on this anyway?”

“I caught something like it, the MO crossed state lines. Locals actually had a decent Sheriff on this-”

“Had?” Wesson prompted and she winced.

“Yeah,” she said, voice suddenly thick. “He’s in the ICU right now.” She was silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat in a rush to continue. “Alright, thanks Wessy. I appreciate it man.”

“Least I can do, Red. Take care of yourself.”

“You sound like my dad,” she laughed and said her goodbyes, waiting for him to hang up before she called her next contact.

She called three more hunters, only one of them could remember the hunt she was talking about and what she got wasn’t pretty - mostly because it was almost human.

“When I got to the first scene I lost my lunch,” the guy admitted and Stiles sighed, turning down a cul de sac and parking outside a large, well-to-do home. She didn’t get out of the car though, choosing to stay inside and continue the conversation.

“Abdomen torn open?” Stiles surmised and got an agreeing noise down the line.

“I’ve seen some nasty shit in my time, Little Red, but that takes the bacon. It was worse this time because the victim had been 7 months pregnant... the-” he paused, censoring himself. “-was just...” he stopped speaking and Stiles could hear deep breaths.

“I’m sorry to bring this up again,” she said, genuinely apologetic. “What about the actual hunt? What was it?”

“It was a rabid were,” the guy said and Stiles winced. “You’ve got the weres that can play happy families until they drop from good old, old age. They’re a peach in comparison. I caught the thing in the act, trying to tear out the innards of a college kid, shot it between the eyes, silver bullet. The kid didn’t make it but the killings stopped.”

“How old was the were?” she asked, frowning. “I mean, because the rabid weres go after the heart, right? It’d just be easy to punch through the sternum... but these are going through the abdomen and reaching up through all the soft tissue. Was the were young?” The line was quiet and she closed her eyes. “How young?” she asked, voice suddenly hoarse.

“Red, I... I make a point of never going after the young ones, y’know? I have kids. I know what it’s like to lose-- I just. I know, okay? I make a point to stay away, I can’t handle it.”

“Joe,” she said gently. “Your case was five years ago... I need to know if it’s possible there was more than one rabid at yours - and the other got away without you noticing... if that did happen, I gotta know how old the rabid were is.”

“The k-” he stopped himself. “It,” he said pointedly, forcefully. “It was about 13 or 14... Listen, Red, I’ve gotta go. Sorry I can’t be more help. Let me know if you gank the thing. Good luck.” The line went dead and Stiles stared at the steering wheel, hands gripping it tightly.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there but she was brought out of her head by a tapping on the window. Looking up she saw Argent staring down at her, a little wary and very guarded. The skin under his chin was dressed but it didn’t seem to be bothering him. She grabbed her phone and the file and opened her door.

“If you’re here to threaten me again I’d rather not have you do it where my neighbors would see.”

“Just want to see what information you had, if any,” she held her hands up and he sighed, gesturing her to follow him inside, which she was more than happy to do.

“My daughter tells me you made quite an impression at the Sheriff’s house this morning,” he lead her into his office where he already had files open and strewn all over his desk.

“Idiot betas trying to talk to me before I talk to their alpha,” she rolled her eyes. “Kid was asking to be knocked back.”

“They’re not much for etiquette this pack,” Chris chuckled. “Too young. Too brash.”

“Which is funny, because the last time I saw Laura Hale, she still ran by those rules - the same rules, as I’ve been told, her parents ran by. Anyway, I was raised old school. Propriety, a proper lady,” she nodded smartly, the smirk on her lips the only thing giving her away. He just rolled his eyes.

“Are you fishing for information on the Hale Pack?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I know Laura and Derek from New York - though the last time I saw him he was a broody teenager with an attitude that led to Laura letting me kick his ass a time or two. Kid grew up well, still broody. I was just curious how it all happened.”

“You threatened to burn us all alive if we interfered with you...”

“I was emotional, I was grandstanding... my dad’s in a hospital bed with a hole in his chest the size of his chest and you expect me to be civil the first night I roll into town? I’m just happy it was you I ran into. If any of those kids had approached me last night I would’ve killed them. Of course, then I go and figure out that one of the little prats is my step brother,” she rolled her eyes and the man chuckled. “As for last night... sorry about the threat thing. Not that I wouldn’t have done something heinous if any of you had gotten in my way, but, y’know, sorry.” she shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

“I forgave you when you told me he was your dad,” Chris smiled and she returned it. “As for the Hale pack...” he led her to a small sofa by his book cases and they sat down heavily. “It’s complicated, and a lot of it is the fault of my family.”

“Don’t tell me, you owe me that hundred bucks because I called the crazy before it happened?” she asked, completely serious, and he laughed a little desperately.

“Something like that,” he acknowledged. “Did your dad ever tell you about the Hale Fire? Or did Laura when you met her?”

“My dad... just that it happened, that Derek and Laura survived, that their uncle was in the hospital in a coma... Laura said the family had been trapped inside the house by mountain ash - they were in the basement, there were children in there; humans and wolves. ” She sighed and shook her head. “She didn’t know who did it," the lie wouldn’t hurt Chris. "But admitted she didn’t trust any hunters at all. I was the only exception because of my reputation. She told me things from her perspective.  I'd like yours though.”

“I only learned about it recently - My sister, Kate?” Stiles snorted but held her hands up at his pointed look. “She was alone with my father growing up for a long time, because of our age gap, when I got out of there I couldn’t shield her from him like I could when I lived at home. So he got into her mind, warped it, warped her into... into something I didn’t even recognise anymore. I didn’t realise it until she came back last year - When she was here about seven or so years ago, she got a part time job at the high school, careers advisor or something. We think it’s there that she met Derek and started manipulating him.”

“So she was a predator too,” Stiles surmised and he nodded, grimacing.

“She was good at manipulating people, she flirted with him for months before she eventually got him to tell her how to get access to his house. The night he thought the pack was supposed to be out at a town function, Kate trapped them all in the basement. We don’t know how, but she committed mass murder. And Laura got the alpha’s power. They left town together and Kate swanned off, a job well done in her eyes.”

“I’ve always thought there was something hinky about your sister,” Stiles admitted. “You’d never listen, but I knew. She’s too into the kill, not into the helping people part. And too focussed on damn werewolves. Seriously, hunting is way more than wolves. Eesh!”

“Anyway...” Chris cleared his throat and she gestured for him to continue. “You’re too kind,” he drawled and she grinned, winking at him. “Kate came back last year around the same time Derek did. Maybe a little later... Killings had started happening, I questioned Derek - he said he was innocent. There was a beta running around that wasn’t Derek, a rogue alpha - Laura was dead-”

“Woah woah... hold the phone right there. What? Start again. Laura was dead. How?”

“The wolf, beta or omega, we didn’t know at the time. It killed her, sliced her in half as if it was a hunter kill-”

“Not a hunter kill. An Argent kill, thank you very much,” she muttered darkly.

“You know what I mean,” he sighed at yet another interruption. “She was dead, the wolf that killed her had become an alpha, a rogue one. It bit a kid in the woods-”

“My step bro?” she asked and he nodded stiffly. “Idiot,” her expression was innocent when he narrowed his eyes on her.

“We were trying to find the alpha, but so were Derek and Scott - when they found it, they discovered it was Peter Hale, the uncle who’d survived the fire.” He waited for her to say something but when she didn’t, he continued. “Kate brought Allison forcefully into the hunting world and in the end, Kate was killed by Peter as revenge for the fire. Peter was then incapacitated and Derek tore out his throat, taking over as alpha. High on power, he turned three teenagers to make his pack, tried to get Scott to join but he was reluctant until recently. I think either Allison or his mother talked him around. Since, they’ve added Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin and Danny Mahealani from school to the pack. Your dad and Scott’s mom are pack but don’t participate much.”

“And you feel ten kinds of guilty on Kate’s behalf.”

“If you call me an idiot-”

“Your words,” she sang and he rolled his eyes. “No wonder the kid’s a grumpy guts,” she snorted. “He thinks he got his family killed.”

“Derek’s not had the best track record, no,” Chris admitted with a wry smile. “He’s trying to keep the pack together, keep the kids safe. Still doesn’t trust me but with Allison getting more and more involved with the pack, I’m being used as a sounding board and a fountain of knowledge for any threat posed to Beacon Hills,” he made a grand gesture towards the stacks of books behind them and she snorted.

“So what you got on what put my dad in hospital?”

“Anything from Mountain Lion to Coyote... nothing rings supernatural outright, but it’s screaming it.” He sounded frustrated, which Stiles could sympathise with. The killers of the supernatural world made a habit of staying under the radar as much as possible by mimicking natural deaths in the human world. It made their job ten times harder, but the lore ten times more accurate so it balanced out somehow. “What did you have?” he glanced at the file she’d left on the desk and she sighed, remembering her conversation in the car.

“Nothing good,” she admitted and filled him in.

“The pack need to be involved in this hunt,” he said after a couple of minute’s silent thinking and she nodded, already knowing that. “A kid? Are you serious?” she nodded again.

“What’s getting me is the time pattern,” she stood up and started walking around. “Killings once a week for four or five weeks, then nothing for a year, hop skip and a jump across a state line or two and then starting up again. I don’t get it.” She growled in frustration and picked up her file from the table. “Is it travelling with a group? Is it alone? Does it hide away for the rest of the year and only come out during summer? What? Does it fucking hibernate? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Red, we’ll figure it out, okay?” Chris was there and she kind of fell into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her until she stepped away. “Give me your number, I’ll pass it onto Derek. He can contact you about a meeting time, yeah? And if you want me there when you meet I’ll be happy to help.”

“I’m not gonna shut you out, Chris,” she said as he walked her out. “I might curse, gripe and whine at you, but you’ve taught me a lot over the years, I won’t shut you out just because it’s my dad.”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

She did a big of grocery shopping to kill some time and mull over what she’d already learned.

“A dollar for them,” a voice said just behind her and she smiled, her tattoos thrumming with warning, the scar on her cheek itching. She shook the feelings off though and stepped aside, letting her companion take the trolley.

“I’m not that cheap, kid,” she chuckled, throwing a few veg into the trolley. “You haven’t even bought me a drink yet. I hope you’re not expecting me to put out.”

“I wouldn’t dare to try, Red.” They walked to the end of the aisle in silence.

“Got any open ears nearby or do they trust me enough not to slay the big bad wolf in the dairy aisle?” she picked up some milk as she asked the question and heard him snort, imagined him rolling his eyes as she grabbed the cream too.

“I’m the alpha, they listen to me.”

“Scott seems a bit flaky to me,” she said idly. “Too headstrong. Really hope you weren’t stupid enough to make him head beta.” She picked up cheese, yoghurts and butter, then went back up the aisle to get a carton of banana milk. “I’ve got a feeling he’s gonna try go to the hospital to see the Sheriff just because I told his mom I didn’t want anyone up there until I’d had a chance to speak with him.”

“She mentioned that,” Derek picked up a bag of salad when she gestured. “She swore you had a good reason so I agreed, told them to wait. No one was happy but I’m not about to go pissing off Little Red, and neither should they.”

“They’re very insulated here,” she said, picking up a few salad vegetables before they turned into the next aisle. “You’ve got a nice little patch of territory, I can see why your family settled here.” He made an agreeing noise but otherwise didn’t comment. “He’s my dad,” she said after a long moment and heard him suck in a sharp breath she responded to with a wry smile as she picked up a carton of eggs and crackers. “I’m not as angry at the world as I was last night then I put a hole in Chris Argent’s neck and threatened to kill every supernatural being in this town if they got in my way, but I’m still pretty pissed off. I also didn’t get this far without making compromises.” She nudged him when she felt him tense up before grabbing a loaf of sliced bread. She picked up cereal from the end of the aisle and they moved on. “Derek, this is my dad, I’m almost certain you can understand my frustration...”

“I can,” he agreed. “My wolf is just trying to come to terms with you threatening the pack.” she snorted at that, throwing a couple of bags of chips into the trolley, turning back towards the fresh produce to get fruit before she was too far away to bother.

“Get out of that habit, kid. You and your wolf are one in the same. I’m not a newbie.”

“Sometimes its easier to explain to them in terms of wolf and human,” he sighed, picking up grapes and oranges while she got apples and bananas.

“Easier yeah, but it’s only a band aid. If they want to function like a serious pack, you know how you need to train them. Just... think back to how your family trained incoming bitten who married into the clan. Even I caught wind of how badass your mom was in my first few years. She was renowned kid, don’t lose that knowledge.”

“You go from threatening us to telling me how to survive?” he gave her a confused look and she laughed.

“They call me Little Red, you know the rep that comes with it. I don’t discriminate.” they turned back and she lead them towards the meat. “Do you know  a good butcher around here?” she grimaced at the packaged cuts. “I’ve always hated store bought meat.” She watched Derek roll his eyes but nod his head. Grinning, they bypassed the meat and headed for coffee. She picked up ground and instant as well as tea and sugar. She’d grab some honey wherever she saw it.

“You’re planning on staying a long while, aren’t you?” Derek asked, giving a pointed look to the trolley and she shrugged.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to stop, but I hear Beacon’s become somewhat of a beacon itself. I’ll stick around until dad’s up on his feet... maybe, then figure it out from then. Not gonna get all territorial on me are you?” her lips twitched. “We know how well that worked out for you last time, don’t we?” she saw him flush and cackled. “I’m sorry,” she said after a full aisle of grabbing items without speaking. He made a questioning noise and she bumped elbows with him. “About Laura. She was a stand up lady, one of the good ones. Loved you something chronic.”

“It’s...” he sighed. “Thank you. I’d forgotten how quickly you two became friends in New York.” Her smile was wan and they walked on down the aisles.

“Chris said he was gonna give you my number somehow,” she said as he pushed the trolley out into the parking lot to where she’d parked her car. “He got that far yet?”

"Not yet, no.” They exchanged numbers after the groceries were loaded into the trunk of her car.

“I want to work together on this thing, but I need to warn you it might not be pretty.. in fact. It’s gonna get downright ugly.” She drew a shaky breath and they walked to put the trolley away. “There are some things I don’t want the kids involved in - they can’t - it’ll be too much for them. I know they’re betas but I won’t have that on my conscience.”

“What’s got you this worried, Red?” he frowned.

“The thing that’s been attacking people...” she took another breath, the walking back to her car easing her nerves somewhat, but not much. “It’s a rabid were.” he started growling and she choked out a laugh. “I don’t think it’s battling for territory, kid.”

“So what do you think’s happening? Out territory lines are clearly scented every week, it’s suicide for any were to cross those lines without first coming to see me.” Stiles sighed, leaning against the hood of her car.

“I know what it is, I’ve a tenuous grasp on how old it is,” his eyes narrowed at that but she ducked her head. “What I don’t know, is why it only strikes at this time a year for a little over a month before going dormant for another year. We need to all sit down and brainstorm.”

“How old do you think it is?” he asked and she looked up, her expression telling him everything he needed to know. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” she pushed off her car and patted his chest like she’d done hours earlier at her dad’s house. “We’ll figure it out big guy.”

“Where would you be comfortable meeting?” he asked when she opened her car door. She leaned on it with one forearm, the other resting on the roof of the car.

“Where’s your place?” she asked.

“Industrial. A factory loft conversion.” She laughed.

“No kidding... the one off 7th?” he frowned. “My apartment is on the 4th floor.” He snorted. “I’m guessing you got the top?” he smirked but nodded. “If you’re heading over now, you can help me with the groceries.” she winked and slid into the drivers seat, closing the door behind her.

She made it home in ten minutes and saw a familiar black Camaro pulling into the parking space beside hers. When Derek got out of the car she whistled, impressed. “Best thing she did was buy that thing,” she grinned.

“Scott calls it a penis extension,” Derek admitted, making Stiles laugh loudly, the laugh echoing around the underground parking garage.

“Scott’s jealous and picks his battles - well I was gonna say wisely, but then I remembered nearly knocking him out this morning so maybe not that wise.” Derek snorted and they started getting out the groceries. With the two of them there, it was only a one trip deal, which made things easier. Also, werewolf strength, huge bonus. “If you wait out here for a second I’ll get rid of the ash line,” she said with an apologetic smile as she unlocked her door and pulled it open. She dumped the groceries in the kitchen area and rushed back to the door. With a wave of her hand, the ash jumped from the floor and flowed like liquid into a large jar of the stuff that was sat on the floor nearby.

“You’re being very trusting with me right now...” Derek said cautiously as he stepped over the threshold without the barrier throwing him back. Stiles closed the door behind them both and lead the way towards the kitchen area. “Not many hunters would let an alpha wolf know where they live.”

“You’d have found out eventually. You live right above me, kid. And the roof is thick, but there are air vents,” she shrugged and opened her fridge to start putting the groceries away. “As long as you and your betas don’t expect me to start cooking for you, I’m happy with you knowing where I live. I’m more impressed by the fact that you told me where you live so easily. Especially with what happened the last time you trusted a hunter.” She turned to see him tensing up and sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be tiptoeing around the topic until you spilled your guts. Chris told me everything this morning. And before you go saying he had no right, he did. Because I can’t work with anyone unless I know the entire story. I don’t need to know what your mom made you for lunch when you were five, but I need to know things that might put me the hunter and you the wolf at odds. And after knowing the story, I can pretty much guarantee I would’ve stuck my foot in it somewhere down the line. It’s my speciality.” He stared at her for a long, quiet moment before nodding his head once.

“Laura trusted you, you saved both our lives back in New York, I owed you that much.”

“You’re quite the sweet talker,” she drawled and he rolled his eyes.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“So how did you take down Scott earlier?” They were in Derek’s loft with all the information the pair of them had gathered spread out on the table in front of them as they waited for the rest of the pack to arrive. Stiles, for the first time since her arrival in town, had foregone her red hoodie. The weather was such that she was happy in her tank top. Then there were the obligatory jeans and boots. Derek had raised an eyebrow at the tattoos on her visible skin but she hadn’t felt the need to explain so he didn’t ask.

“The gloves I was wearing were treated in mountain ash, wolfsbane and silver and embossed with protection runes. I could probably knock you down with a well place right hook if I was wearing them. Probably wouldn’t be able to hold onto your neck like I did his but I pick my battles,” she flashed him a smirk and he rolled his eyes, lips twitching. “Kid deserved it anyway, I’ve been knocked about by every supernatural creature you can think of but nothing gets you like having your head knocked against a wall in the house you grew up in.” Derek frowned but she waved it away. “He was reacting to a perceived threat, I couldn’t really talk him out of it.”

“You weren’t a threat though, not at that moment. You said his mom invited you in?” she nodded. “That should’ve been enough for him, but he pushed.” he growled, frustrated. “I don’t get that kid, I swear. He says he’s happy being a team player, then he goes around acting like a damn alpha.”

“You put him in his place yet?” Derek nodded and she shrugged. “I don’t know the pack well enough to offer advice on dynamics, give me a few days - if we’re still alive, I’ll let you know what I think.”

They silently read the files on the desk for the next ten minutes until she saw Derek shifting.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Scott snarled as the door slammed open. When Stiles looked up from the files, she saw everyone who had been at the house earlier was stood in the loft, everyone staring at her - a few of them glaring.

“Derek?” Stiles spoke up, head cocked, waiting.

“You have permission, Red,” he nodded and she smirked.

Walking around the table she raised a hand and flicked it to the side, the door slammed shut, making the kids jump, shocked. “Now,” she clapped her hands together. “Introductions. First of all, you lot. Go.” When they didn’t speak, Derek growled them into action.

“Danny Mahealani,” looked nice enough, obvious roots in Hawaii or some place like it, had a southern lilt to his accent, barely there. He’d probably been in Beacon Hills all his life and the lilt came from his parents. This one was human.

“Allison Argent,” looked nothing like her aunt, which Stiles was thankful for. Kate and Stiles had a bad one on one relationship. One of their bust-up had been legendary in their world, but Allison looked strong, smart, ready for anything, but also had a frailty about her that would be advantageous when making enemies underestimate her. Stiles had lost that when she hit 18. She was also human, Chris would’ve mentioned is she was anything else.

“Erica Reyes,” was badass, or a tryhard, Stiles wasn’t sure yet. She knew that she had and flaunted it, had an air of danger about her. Definitely a bitten wolf, one of the three Chris mentioned. Stiles imagined that before the bite, she’d been an outcast, from the way she overcompensated by her post-bite appearance, she was either a social outlier or had some debilitating illness that stopped her from doing the most basic of teenage things.

“Vernon Boyd,” was... Vernon Boyd. Tall, dark, silent. He seemed the most at ease of all the bitten wolves in the room, like he was made for it. He stood close to Erica like he wanted to protect her, but not close enough that she’d realise what he was doing.

“Isaac Lahey,” was all curls and puppy eyes. Stiles could see why Melissa took him in. He looked content, despite the unease of the situation they were currently in. He seemed centred, but kept shifting between standing near Scott and standing near Erica and Boyd, which made Stiles draw the conclusion that the three of them had been turned close together.

“Jackson Whittemore,” was a piece of work. He sneered his name out as if he hated it and glared at Stiles as if it might make her back down and had his arms folded over his chest, a clear barrier between himself and the rest of the pack. While he was somewhere in the middle, he wasn’t in the middle, if that made any sense. The only people who seemed to tolerate him was the redhead and Danny. As Stiles arched an eyebrow at him though, the rest of the pack shuffled a little closer. That was interesting, she mused.

“Lydia Martin,” was absolutely not human. Well, she was human, but she had something else going on and Stiles frowned at her, trying to figure it out. She seemed protective over Jackson, like he was hers and no one else had the right to touch him. She appeared to be well placed within the pack, she didn’t want for anything, wasn’t angry at the world like it owed her a favour. Stiles felt tingling running up and down her arm tattoos and narrowed her eyes. She saw the girl’s eyes widen as if shocked before she heard Derek growling.

“The next time you attack a professional hunter unprovoked with magic she is more than capable of using against you with a damn sight more precision than you just used, I’m going to let her,” he snapped and Lydia took a step back, looking shocked that she’d been figured out.

“I don’t think you need to introduce yourself, do you Scotty?” Stiles grinned, ignoring Lydia but giving Derek a nod of thanks for the backup. Scott just growled at her. “I really rubbed you up the wrong way, did I? Still smarting because I won’t let you see the Sheriff?”

“He’s my stepdad!” Scott snapped.

“Yeah? So?”

“We’re his family!”

“And I’m his blood, next argument.” Predictably, the room went silent. She waited a few seconds before opening her mouth to continue, only to have Lydia beat her to the punch.

“How are you his blood?” the redhead asked. “He’s never mentioned having any-”

“You’re Stiles!” Danny gasped, eyes wide. “Holy- you used to be my babysitter!” Stiles frowned at him, confused until after a moment, it clicked.

“You grew up,” she said, then narrowed her eyes. “Just because you’re still human doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass for forcing me to cut all my hair off in junior high.” The kid paled but at least he didn’t back up. He relaxed when she grinned at him though. “Yes, I am Stiles. And for those of you that don’t know what a Stiles is, it’s me. Only my mother could pronounce my first name, so I chose this. The Sheriff is my father and that, Scott McCall, gives me the right to deny you and anyone else access to him. Now, any arguments?”

There was, and they lasted for twenty minutes until Stiles turned away and let Derek take over, ordering them all to deal with it until the Sheriff woke up, rationalising it by saying they’d be useless up there anyway.

Stiles realised she probably could’ve lead with that.

“That was unnecessarily dramatic,” Derek bumped into her as he rounded the table to stand beside her.

“Laura said I could’ve been an actor,” she posed and batted her eyelashes at him. “Right before I went down-” her eyes laughed when his hand slapped over her mouth.

“I don’t want to ever hear about my sister’s sex life. Ever. Got it?” His eyes flashed red and she arched an eyebrow, biting down hard on his hand, forcing him to snatch it away.

“Did you just try to alpha me? Not even Laura did that, Cujo.”

“You can’t prove a thing,” he shrugged, wiping his hand on his jeans before turning to his pack, who had gathered around the table and were stood staring at the pair of them.

“Are you two gonna flirt like this the whole time?” Jackson groaned.

“Would you rather I try to get into your girlfriends panties?” Stiles asked and the kid growled, pulling Lydia closer to him. “Shut up then, idiot.”

“What’s all this? Part of it looks like my dad’s handwriting,” Allison pointed to a report and attention was officially trained on them.

It took a while to go over everything, give them the history, what could happen, what probably would happen, what they could help with and what they couldn’t. There were arguments and protests - they all wanted to help, but Derek and Stiles flat out refused. They could help by keeping the town safe, patrolling during the night, taking watchs, boosting the presence where the police fell short. They were all under orders not to engage any hostiles. If anyone came into contact, they were told to scare the wolf away from populated areas and call either Derek or Stiles.

“You think it’s a kid, don’t you?” Lydia asked when she’d finished reading over the files. “A minor at least, our age maybe.” She was astute, Stiles would give her that. A bit flaky though, too into her own self-image.

Stiles made a living out of her perceived image, but at least she had purpose. Then again, this kid was only that, a kid, so she still had time to maneuver herself around.

“How old it is is irrelevant to any of you; no one under the after of 24 is going against it.”

“Of course its relevant,” Scott persisted. “It could be someone at school!”

“Possibly, but unlikely. If you’d paid attention,” Stiles pointed at the previous case files. “It’s transient. It moves around. What we need to figure out is why does it pick these few weeks of the year to go on a killing spree?”

“If we can’t help with the hunt, why are we helping with the figuring out?” Jackson asked, sounding bored and Stiles stared him down.

“I don’t like you,” she said. “You’re spoiled, entitled, think you’re better than anyone and everyone around you because you came from money. You got the bite because you were jealous of someone you tormented almost your entire school life and you come in here thinking you’re doing me and my father a favour by gracing me with you less than inspiring sarcastic barbs? I’ve been hunting for 10 years you little shit, I’ve killed more monsters than you could ever imagine and just because you’re not an adult yet doesn’t mean I won’t take you out, and be happy to do so, if you in any way hinder this investigation. Grow up or get the fuck out.” She pointed at the door and stared at him, face set. He stared back, face flushed, embarrassed, but he didn’t move an inch.

“We don’t want you on the hunt because on the off chance that the rabid is a kid...” Derek started. “I don’t want that on anyone’s conscience, got it?” When no arguments were forthcoming, they started brainstorming about the times of each spree.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“How’s he doing?” Stiles had been driving around for hours in an attempt to clear her head or search for the rabid were, she hadn’t decided.

“Still not awake,” Melissa’s voice sounded through her car’s speaker system. “Scott stopped by-”

“He what?!” she snapped, barely avoiding hitting an oncoming car as she swerved into the other lane.

“Relax, Red,” Melissa was probably rolling her eyes. She sounded like she was rolling her eyes. “He came to drop my lunch off and to chat. Says you told him who you were... Couldn’t believe he had a step-sister he had no idea about and that she was this world renowned hunter extraordinaire.”

“Kid’s got a big damn mouth,” she muttered and heard Melissa laugh. “He’s so argumentative, I’m surprised he’s survived as long as he has in the pack. I’ve been in town almost two days and I can already tell he doesn’t trust Derek like a beta is supposed to trust an alpha.”

“Well, from what I understand, they didn’t really get off to the best of starts,” Melissa sighed but Stiles didn’t have time for excuses. It wasn’t a luxury she could ever afford.

“Whatever,” she replied maturely. “If he doesn’t want to be in the pack he can be an omega. Pack dynamics are complicated and intricate. Families are what you make them, packs rely on balance, chemistry... obedience. Scott’s at war with himself and he’s trying, I get it, and yeah he’ll probably get it in the end but right now he just likes the kid who is very fringe with no benefits. I’m sorry, Mel, I know he’s your kid, I just can’t afford not to trust anyone right now.” She heard a sigh down the line and fought one of her own, wondering if she should have maybe censored herself but realising anything she said would only help matters along, whoever she spoke to.

Then she realised she would eventually have to speak with Scott alone.

“I’m not gonna say he’s perfect, because he’s not. No one is. But he’s been dealt a crappy hand and he has some anger issues, exacerbated by the wolf thing - which heightens everything, not just emotions. Hormones too, and Stiles, he’s 17, but he’s a good kid. And he is trying. I think you’ll be surprised by how much he could help you... he and your dad have become close since we moved in and-”

“Sorry Melissa,” Stiles interrupted, really not wanting to hear what the woman had been about to say. “I’m not going to be guilted into letting him bypass my rules. I don’t know if that’s what you meant or if you didn’t mean it at all, but it’s what it sounds like. Scott might be my step-brother but I don’t know him at all. To me, he’s your son, he’s a kid and he’s a werewolf. The only thing standing him in good stead right now is the fact that he hasn’t actively hurt anyone. And yeah, I know I’m gonna have to get over this when dad wakes up and Scott and I will probably have to sit down and hash things out because finding out you have a sister who hunts your kind has to be tough, but he’s not my priority and until this thing is down, he can’t be.”

“Honey,” Melissa sighed again. “We’re not trying to replace your family. We love your father very much and we want you to be a part of that.”

“I’m still a hunter Mel, I’m not going to be sticking around forever.”

“I know,” she said. “But maybe getting to know us a little better will give you another reason to come back more?”

“I don’t stay away because I don’t love my dad,” Stiles scowled at her phone where it sat plugged into her car. “I stay away because I can’t stand it here. Here is where my mother died. I hate it. Why would I torture myself for longer than I need to by staying here?”

“Because you have family here.” Stiles didn’t reply and Melissa just sighed, again, before saying she had to go. The call ending tone sounded as Stiles pulled into a dead end stretch of woodland road. She parked up just far enough away from the main road that her car wouldn’t be seen and got out. Grabbing her phone and a rucksack from the backseat, she locked the car and set off walking. She needed to think.

Walking had always helped her make sense of the world. Other hunters thought going off wandering alone wasn’t worth the obvious trouble but Stiles loved it and she wasn’t exactly defenseless. Being in town was too much, her head was buzzing and getting hazy, even though her apartment was away from the general population, it seemed that Derek’s place was a popular hangout so she couldn’t even relax there. Her scar itched, her tattoos tingled and she always got the feeling she was being listened in on, even though Derek told her that while he’s aware of her existence, he doesn’t make a habit of invading other people’s privacy. It wasn’t the same though.

What I need, she thought, is space.

The irony was that all she’d had since she started the hunting gig was space. Aside from the odd collaboration here and there over the years, she generally worked alone. She didn’t like to let herself trust other hunters because 90% of them were self-serving blood lusting asshats, but even she had to admit they all had their place.

Originally, there had been two rabids - there had to have been for the hunter she'd been in touch with to have killed one but have the killings continue. The one he killed had been a kid, 14 tops, so maybe the other one was a friend? A sibling? Parent? Either it bit the kid or the kid bit it, Stiles had no way of knowing. Joe hadn’t gone into too much detail understandably.

She snorted to herself.

It was like a riddle.

What hunted for 4-5 weeks of the summer, then went dormant for the rest of the year, only to pop back up a year later and a state over to start again?

Okay, not like a riddle, but a pretty compelling essay question. Countless theories and justifications.

She mulled over the case details she could remember and tried to make sense.

No trace evidence found on any of the victims, any trace on her dad would have been long gone - Derek had admitted to not being able to pick up a scent at all around the area of the attack. The rabid was either incredibly organised and was high functioning, blended in, able to cover his tracks from hunters and cover everything else from more conventional means of investigation... or the rabid was just a weapon.

The realisation hit her as she hit a clearing that had a rocky brook running down the middle and disappearing into the trees.

The rabid wasn’t a hunter, it was a hunter’s weapon.

Which meant her dad hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, he had been targeted. Did someone know he was her dad? That kind of information would be like gold to the countless of people she'd pissed off over the years. Or was it his affiliation with the pack? Was this a play for the territory or a play to wipe the Hale pack out? Either way it didn't sit well with her.

“But what had the power to control a rabid?” she murmured to herself as she neared the brook, easily crossing it but changing directions and following it instead of continuing straight. And what, more importantly, had the power to force a rabid to turn against the moon cycle?

The epiphany put the whole ‘who is the rabid’ on a different spin.

Her scar began to itch and she frowned, opening her senses as far as she could. "Either announce yourself or risk a bullet. Your choice..." she had her hand on her holster as she waited,  spinning around and aiming when she heard a twig snap at her 6 o'clock, rolling her eyes when she saw Derek strolling towards her. “You either got a fantastic grasp of my sense range very quickly or you saw my car abandoned and put your nose to the ground.”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” Derek shrugged.

“You do not have a grasp of my sense range,” she challenged and his lips twitched.

“Saw the car, wanted to know if something was up. Your scent was distracted, not what I’m used to with you.” He stopped a few feet away and gave the gun she still had out a pointed look. She rolled her eyes but slipped the piece back into its holster.

“I was thinking. I think better when I’m walking. I walk better when I’m alone. Though hindsight is telling me walking around the Hale territory woodland isn’t the best way to stay ‘alone’.” Derek snorted.

“I don’t even let my betas patrol these woods alone.” They were quiet for a few seconds until she shifted away, continuing to walk beside the brook. “Did anything come from your thinking?”

“Nothing good, but something helpful,” she admitted before explaining her theory.

“Do you think someone with the knowledge of your name would dare go after your dad?” he asked, disbelief lining his tone and she shrugged.

“I don’t know, maybe? Possibly? Weirder things have happened. I’ve pissed a lot of people off in my time.”

“A lot of those people are no longer living,” he pointed out and she tipped her head, acknowledging the statement. “I don’t think it’s likely to be any of your personal enemies. The world knows you as Little Red and you’re the best at what you do. You know my history, do you think I’d be near you or let you near my pack if I didn’t trust you at least a little?”

“Alright,” she conceded. “If it isn’t me, it’s you. Your pack. My dad is a member, yes, but he’s human, law enforcement and really only there by association, through Melissa-”

“That’s how it started,” Derek agreed. “But he became more than that, he earned his place.”

“Do you think it’s possible the thing controlling the rabid has been targeting packs this whole time?” she asked.

“Weren’t all the victims human?”

“Would werewolf victims want their dead advertised to the general public? I don’t know,” she kicked a pebble into the brook. “I don’t think it’s beyond the realm of possibility. This thing could thrive on the chaos that comes with packs losing members.”

“But, on the other side of things, the victims before the Sheriff had nothing to do with us.”

“Maybe it’s testing the water? Testing your response time? Or maybe it was testing my dad’s? It already had a line up, a hit list... and it started with him? Luring him to that place, knowing that he’d be alone because he’s the Sheriff, he often patrols alone.” They stopped walking when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out she glanced down at the text message that flashed.

“What is it?” Derek asked and she slid her phone back into her pocket.

“He’s awake.”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“So,” she sat on the chair beside her dad’s bed, legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, hands loosely clasped together on her lap. “You’re so lucky you’re in the hospital right now, old man,” she rolled her eyes when he smiled, very aware of just how lucky he was at that moment. He looked exhausted, haggard, but had demanded to see her when he learned she was in town. “First of all, you new brat is a wolf. That’s kind of important information for me to know - not just because I do what I do but because I’m the goddamn best at what I do and I don’t judge anyone. It sucks that you think I would.”

“We were going to tell you soon,” he murmured gently. “The pack were settled, life was fine, we were just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Second of all, there are two Argents left. TWO. And one of them is in the damn pack. That leaves this entire town under the somewhat questionable protection of a pack with a lousy history in self-control.” She was glaring at him, he was going to take everything she had to say to him and then some. This was unacceptable.

“We also have Deaton?” her dad tried.

“Deaton’s job is balance, mine it to protect. There’s a difference!”

“Well I wasn’t going to bring you home when you hate it here so your argument is moot. Continue.” He sounded like he was taking it all in his stride. While Stiles didn’t want to overwhelm him, she wanted him to think about his actions. He looked like he was only half listening, half basking in her presence.

“Third,” she snapped. “I learned more about this thing in two days than anyone of you here learned in a month, so next time something like this happens, mention it in freaking passing at least!”

“So you know what’s going on then?” he asked, changing his tone and trying to sit up, wilting when she scowled at him.

“Fourth; Parish is a moron, your deputies are more afraid of me than they are of you - which means your lunches and snacks are henceforth being monitored, and the next time you go out on patrol you’re on rookie duty.” His eyes were doing the weird glassy thing they did when he was either about to cry or laugh at her. “Your new kid is a moron, no offense to Mel, but he is. Little shit tried slamming into a wall so I nearly knocked him out. This town is a mess, the pack is slowly rebuilding itself into something it used to be but in the meantime it’s made itself a target. Big flashing lights shaped like arrows all pointing at them screaming here we are, ripe for the picking! That means everyone is a target. Not just the wolves, or involved humans, but you and Mel too. This!” she made a vague gesture to herself. “Isn’t your world. Your world is lawful, by the book, natural and decidedly not supernatural. You didn’t want this life when I started and I have no freaking idea why you want it now because it nearly killed you!”

“Are you done?” he asked and she continued to glare but kept her mouth shut. “First of all, I’m the parent, not you. I’ve yelled at you till I’m blue in the face and you never listen to me when I tell you to stay away from something and I know it’s your job, and I respect that, but what I did a few nights ago was my job. I was doing my conventional, decidedly natural job when I was attacked - which is also commonplace among the regular folk of law enforcement.”

“Did you know Scott didn’t even know who I was?” she asked suddenly and he had no hope in hell of holding back the flinch. “Dad, I love you, I really do, I’m just too pissed right now.” she stood up and stepped up to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. “I’ll be back soon - maybe tonight.”

“Stiles,” he grasped her arm and held it tightly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You’re...” she laughed a little desperately, running her free hand over her face. “You’re - I can’t do this.” She tugged her arm free and walked to the door. “I’ll let the brats through to see you,” she said before leaving. She gave a short wave to Melissa before heading for the elevator. Walking through the foyer, she didn’t even spare a glance towards the waiting area as she spoke. “Two at a time, ten minutes each pair.” She heard the mad dash and ignored it, jogging out to her car. Once inside she connected her phone to bluetooth and dialled a number, firing up her engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

“Hale,” the voice grunted.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“The loft, why?”

“I learned to take all my hand to hand hits through werewolf trainers. I have a lot of energy and frustration I need to get rid of.” She stopped talking and let him take the hint.

“Door’s unlocked,” Derek finally replied and a click from the line told her he’d hung up.

When she made it up to Derek’s loft, she hauled the door open and slammed it shut behind her. Derek was stood leaning against the table they’d been planning around the day before. She dropped her bag to the floor along with her jacket and hoodie.

“You’re not bringing any weapons?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised as Stiles jumped down the steps, rolling her shoulders, stretching out her muscles, trying to loosen up and shake out some excess energy. Her expression pinched, as if she were trying to hold back a hot retort that would anger rather than appease Derek. “One to ten,” he said when she didn’t reply to his first question. “One being human, no discernible skills, ten being alpha wolf, me.”

“Start at six,” she said, stopping in the middle of the room and waiting. She saw him push away from the table with ease and pad barefoot across the cold concrete floor like it had underfloor heating or something. He deviated when he reached the 5ft distance and started to circle her, prowling almost, like a predator. “Do you know how to instigate a spar with a woman?” she asked, lips twitching and heard him snort.

“I know how to instigate a spar with a female wolf,” he replied. “I usually tell them to attack me first.”

“So you can gauge their starting stance, their attack formation, see what muscle’s they’re using and compare to what muscles they should use...” she jumped forward, rolling and spinning around, her stance instant and defensive when she felt him approach quickly from behind. She saw him nod, impressed, and this time they circled each other.

“How would you instigate a spar with a wolf?” he asked and she shrugged.

“Depends on the wolf,” she said. “Some are picky, too in control of themselves, don’t give anything away before they attack but then they leave themselves open to anything and everything I can throw at them.” They both caught the shift at the same time before the other attacked. He blocked her blow with ease, she felt her bones jarr with the force of his but didn’t let it phase her as she tried to kick his knee out, using the leverage to jump backwards, away from him, only to have him follow quickly. They blocked and blocked for a few more seconds before breaking apart again.

“Laura used to spar with me almost every night so I could get rid of my aggression,” he said idly as they circled one another again. “She’d kick my ass, but a spar was a spar, not a fight. It helped.”

“Laura was a fine lady,” she commented and he agreed, nodding. She threw herself at him first this time and he twisted, sending her stuttering to a halt somewhere behind him. Before she could fully turn, he was on her, arm around her neck in a choke hold. She went limp quickly and he grunted at the dead weight. She let it continue for a few seconds and reared up, hands coming up to grip his neck, digging her nails in and he roared, releasing her instantly and pushing her into a nearby pillar. “Alpha wolves are so picky about their necks,” she chuckled, running her bloodied fingers over each forearm, making her tattoos thrum under her skin.

Derek was growling, eyes glowing, teeth very wolf like, but that was it. No hair or ears in play.

“I thought I told you to start at a six,” she went on and he rolled his own shoulders, stretching his neck to crack it, sighing as if it was satisfying which Stiles could appreciate she supposed, it just sounded weird when someone else did it.

“I won’t be making that mistake again,” he said through the sharpened set of teeth he was sporting, almost lisping his words out and he stalked forward.

Their spar went on for another hour, each of them pushing the other until Stiles was at her max, her limit topped out and eventually, she let him pin her to the nearest wall, obligingly dropping her head, neck bared in deference to his victory. She felt him growling into her neck, his teeth scraping down the skin, saliva dripping down from his mouth and pooling at her nape.

“Holy shit,” they heard and she gasped, tensing under Derek’s hold, not relaxing until he started growling something close to soothing against her neck. When she finally relaxed, she tugged a wrist out of his grip and patted him on the shoulder.

“Good spar, big guy,” she panted, righting her head and catching his eye. They were both bloody, but she had actual cuts and bruises whereas his healed. She kinda hated him for that. He noticed her giving him the stink eye and smirked, completely ignoring the outburst until she acknowledged it a few seconds later. She let her head rest against the wall behind her and started at the group stood by the door. “Weren’t you at the hospital?” she asked, still breathing hard, barely blinking when Derek honed in on the other side of her neck this time, stamping his win home with a blunt-toothed nip while she allowed it.

“Can you two stop humping each other’s leg?” Scott looked grossed out and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“You know a man and a woman can get this close without getting hot and bothered, right?” he glared at her and she snorted. “Prude. You are so not a proper teenager,” she drawled, tugging her other wrist free and gently pushing Derek away from his victory dance. “Go get a shower, you stink,” she playfully wrinkled her nose and he rolled his eyes.

“Got nothing on you,” he taunted and she snorted again.

“Back up, Cujo,” she said with a laugh. “I smell fucking fantastic. Don’t even hate. Now, I’m going to go to my own apartment and shower. I think I have blood in my hair,” she frowned, tugging at a lock of matted hair she couldn’t see. He smirked but didn’t seem inclined to confirm or deny, which in itself was a confirmation. Ten minutes, a few grossed out teenagers and a lot of smart remarks later, she was in her own shower.

“STILES!” there was pounding on her front door and she scowled at the very loud, vocal use of her first name. The kid was asking to be maimed, she was almost certain of it. “STILES!” he shouted again. She finished rinsing her hair, not even flinching when the suds ran over her cuts, and shut the shower off. Opening her front door wearing only a towel around herself and a smaller one around her hair wasn’t exactly what she’d planned but whatever.

“Would you like to shout a little louder? Maybe tell the entire supernatural community that my name is Stiles? They might even make the connection that the Sheriff is my dad, and then this entire shit fest of a backwater town will drown in its own blood because the amount of shit I’ve had to deal with over the last ten years has made me more than a few enemies who are more than willing to use my family against me. Go on,” she said easily. “Shout some more. I keep telling your mom that you’re a moron, prove me right, kid.” Scott flushed, but glared at her. Argent’s kid stood beside him looking a little nervous, out of her depth, even a tiny bit overawed by Stiles. With a practised move, Stiles waved her hand from right to left in a sweeping motion and like before, the mountain ash line swept itself up and into the large jar. “Do come in,” she smiled easily.

When the door shut, she put the ash line back and pointed towards the breakfast bar.

“Sit there, don’t move, don’t touch anything. Don’t go snooping, don’t open any drawers. Don’t. Do. Anything. I’ll be five minutes.”

“She’s worse than my mom,” she heard before she, very pointedly, slammed her bedroom door shut.

Dressed in faded jeans, boots and a clean wife-beater, she walked back into the open plan living area, towel draped around her shoulders to catch the water from her still-damp hair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, putting two bottles of water in front of the pair and opening a third for herself.

“I thought we should talk,” Scott was still blushing, embarrassed or not, Stiles wasn’t sure.

“You mean someone else told you to come talk to me.” his flush darkened and he scowled at the bottle of water in his hand. “You get your claws into that you’re cleaning up the mess,” she pointed out helpfully, ignoring the annoyed look the Argent brat threw her way.

“Your dad thinks we should get to know each other,” he ground out through gritted teeth and she snorted.

“Look, whatever shit you’ve got going on with your dad, that’s your business, Scott’s trying right now-”

“Trying my patience,” Stiles drawled, taking a long drink of water. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I not only give a shit, but that I somehow want anything to do with you. I have a family, my dad is it. He just so happens to be married to your mom, who is a classy lady and I think she’s amazing, but he lied to me, by omission, about you. Do you think I want to be away from him for years on end?”

“You’ve certainly not made much of an effort to come around for Thanksgiving or Christmas,” Scott glared at her.

“You’re a child,” she rolled her eyes. “What do you know? Nothing.”

“I know enough to know you miss him. You drove 9 hours non-stop to get here didn’t you?” he snapped and she raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need anymore family, kid, especially when the family I have lies to me because it’s scared I’ll react badly to the fact that my new kid brother is a fucking werewolf.”

“So it’s the wolf thing that pisses you off the most,” he surmised and she rolled her eyes. “You were just sparring with an Alpha wolf, for fun, you let him scent you. You can’t be against wolves in general.”

“You feel as helpless as the rest of us,” Argent said quietly. “It’s not a nice feeling, is it?”

“When you’re stood in a ward full of children, barely five years old, and you’re watching their life force being drained and you can do absolutely nothing, then you can come back to me and tell me you know what it’s like to be helpless,” she glared at the girl so hard she flinched, but to her credit, she didn’t back down. “I’m not helpless in this instance, because unlike you, I know how to investigate. I know what we’re dealing with and I’ve a solid idea on why it’s happening. Which is more than I can say for anything you had before I arrived.”

“You’re feeling helpless because you can’t do anything about your dad,” Argent pushed on. “You can’t keep him out of the Supernatural, no matter how hard you’ve tried to distance yourself and your work from his, you can’t lock him away and wrap him in bubble wrap, no matter how much you want to. He wouldn’t let you.”

“You’re right,” Stiles murmured, staring at her refrigerator a few feet behind Argent where she’d stuck a picture of her dad on with a cheesy magnet. “I can’t protect him anymore than I already have.” The two teenagers sat across from her seemed thrown by her admission. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to open myself up to more leverage my enemies can use against me. I don’t want anymore family, the one I have left is proving more than enough for me to cope with right now.”

“I think it’s a bit late for family nights and heartfelt moments,” Scott rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to impose myself on you more than I already have-”

“What, you mean the crack my head took in the drywall the other morning?” she asked and he flinched, but pushed on.

“I want us to be civil with one another, for him at least. And my mom. I know she likes you, it’s why she’s been trying so hard to accommodate you. Even before we knew you were his daughter and she couldn’t tell us anything about you, she fought your case until she was blue in the face and we finally agreed to wait. I mean, you’re not leaving now are you? You’re hanging around.”

“Just because my dad’s sick doesn’t mean I don’t still have a day job,” she pointed out and he frowned, confused.

“But he needs you here,” he protested and she smirked.

“Does he? He has you doesn’t he? Big bad werewolf on campus, and the rest of the pack to protect him... oh wait,” her smile dropped. “You fucked that up last time didn’t you?”

“Look, he’s the Sheriff! We can’t exactly follow him around and watch his every move-”

“No, but you,” she pointed at the girl. “Can act like the hunter you are and recognise a situation for what it is! You knew he knew about the supernatural, and you knew something was attacking people around town. Using more caution could have been something to point out to him!”

“This isn’t Allison’s fault!” Scott snarled. “We can’t control what he does when he’s at work! We told him that something was happening!”

“And that’s it? No follow-up? No questions, no nothing? Really?” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not really in a position to ask those kinds of questions,” Argent gritted out and Stiles turned back to Scott, waiting.

“All I ever get from him is ‘I can’t talk about on going investigations’, this time wouldn’t have been any different.”

“You’re a moron,” she said. “You’re his stepson, you live in the same house, eat at his table, watch his TV, are the beneficiary of killer dental and he knows what you are. Do you honestly think he’d say he couldn't talk about it when he knows it concerned the supernatural? When he knows your pack was investigating it too? Really?”

“You can’t just keep looking for new reasons to hate me,” Scott snapped. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry he got hurt? Well I am! I’m sorry he was dragged into this mess! I’m sorry he was targeted! I’m sorry my being a damn werewolf brought all this bullshit down on your precious family but where the hell were you?” by the end he was shouting at her. “Where were you when he got attacked? Where were you when he got shot?” Stiles froze. “Where were you when he had a heart attack? Where were you when they told him he had to retire at the end of this term? Where the hell were you when me and my mom sat in the doctors office with him and they told him if he didn’t slow down he wouldn’t last another year?” he blinked down at the death grip Argent had on his arm and frowned at her, only then realising exactly what the expression on Stiles’ face was. “Oh,” he breathed.

“Get out,” she said quietly and Argent tugged him down from the stools.

“Stiles-”

“Get out.” Stiles saw his head tip up as Argent pulled him away from her but he shook his head.

“Stiles I-”

“Get. OUT!” She roared, throwing her arm out. The door slammed open, the mountain ash disappeared. She wouldn’t use her magic to throw them out, she’d never use it for that, but this was as close as she’d ever come to using it in that way. “Before I break my own oath,” she was clinging to the breakfast bar like it was the only thing keeping her upright and she turned away from Scott, looking directly at Argent this time. “Get him out of here or I swear to God...” she trailed off, leaving the threat open.

“Stiles please!” Scott shouted and then he was gone.

 She didn’t see them leave, having let herself sink to the floor behind the breakfast bar and try to curl in on herself. Her breaths were coming in short sharp bursts. She barely heard the door sliding shut, didn’t even hear anyone approaching – couldn’t register anything with her senses because her mind was racing – and so, didn’t realise she wasn’t along until there was a body behind her, wrapping itself around hers. Hands latched onto her wrists tightly, crossing over her chest securely. She opened her eyes enough to see familiar legs pinning hers to the floor, closing them again when the head attached to the new body leaned forward to rest against hers, ear to ear.

“You’re going to breath with me, got it?” his voice rumbled through her body and she tried jerking away, to no avail; it didn't surprise her. He had her tight. “I’m going to ease up on your chest and you’re going to breathe in, then I’m going to tighten up on your chest so you can breathe out. Nice and controlled, okay? In and out, don’t think about anything else, just that. Got it?” her head was leaning back against his shoulder, pressed against the wall of the breakfast bar but she nodded as best she could. “Good girl,” he whispered and loosened his grip. “Breathe in,” and it started.

She breathed with him for a while. She didn’t know how long they were on the floor and she’d lost count of how many breaths it took for her to calm down. When she was eventually calm again, heart rate back to normal and no longer at risk of accidentally injuring herself, she slumped as much as his hold could let her.

“I’m gonna ease up but I’m not gonna let you go, okay?” he said and she nodded again, thankful.

“You’re a good guy, Hale,” she breathed and heard him snort out an amused breath against her ear.

“Laura taught me everything she knew,” he admitted and she patted the nearest bit of his skin she could reach.

“Thank you.”

They were quiet for a while before Stiles remembered exactly why she ended up where she was. She felt Derek tensing up again as her heart rate increased but she shook her head, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm.

“What’s the stance on patricide?” she asked and he just sighed.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“I just had Scott in here in a state because he shouted at you for not being around for things he thought you knew about but apparently didn’t know,” Melissa was on the other end of the line and Stiles didn’t speak. “I know you’re angry, at your dad, probably at me too because I didn’t call when he told me not to, you had the right to know when he got hurt,” she went on and Stiles pressed her head against the steering wheel of her car. “He only kept it from you because he knew you’d come back and you hate it here, he didn’t want to force you here-” Stiles reached out and hit end call.

She drove around Beacon Hills aimlessly for hours, only stopping at the gas station to fill up her car after the four hours mark. She was pretty sure she’d been down every street in the town before heading back to the apartment.

“What if it’s another pack?” she asked as she let herself into Derek’s loft. She saw the other man look up from where he was going over something with Isaac at the kitchen table. “Sorry, you busy?”

“Homework,” Derek answered, gesturing to Isaac and Stiles walked over, glancing over their shoulders at the physics problems.

“You major in Quantum Mechanics?” she asked the alpha, who rolled his eyes.

“No but I passed in high school.”

“You’re mixing equations,” she commented, reaching out and picking up a piece of paper. “This is mechanics, velocity, gravity, etc. Not what you want for those problems.”

“Which is probably why it wasn’t making any sense,” Isaac grumbled and she snorted.

“Organise your notes better,” she grinned, ruffling his hair and dancing away when Derek tried to swat her hands away.

“Another pack?” he asked and she nodded.

“We know there’s a rabid, we know it’s young, which means it’s probably either impressionable and is being manipulated, or it’s under direct control of someone. This thing has been used to target packs, or the humans within a pack. I managed to contact people who knew each of the victims from other states and once they heard my name they were a lot more forthcoming with information. Each victim was a human pack member. One had been pregnant - an alpha’s mate actually. A pregnant alphas mate.” She let that sink in for a few seconds. “The alpha barely survived. It’s only because of his pack that he managed to pull through - he still isn’t the same alpha he was, but he’ll do anything to get revenge, including give me the information I want.”

“Does that extend to helping us if we need it?” Derek asked, frowning. Isaac was listening but also working on his homework.

“He said contact will have to go down the proper channels but they’re a formality; they’ll help if you need the help. All the packs I spoke to said they’re glad I picked the hunt up, they’re just sorry it took another victim for someone to take notice.”

“That sounds like some backhanded blame game,” Isaac said and Stiles chuckled.

“Yes and no. Someone should have noticed, it’s why hunters exist. But they’re glad I was the one who put it together - well, they acknowledged that it was me. I wasn’t really going to bring attention to every facet of help I received.”

“Why not?” Isaac frowned.

“Reputation and safety of all involved,” Derek answered for her. “Better she take all the heat and/or glory than someone else making a mistake and paying for everything.” He turned to regard her. “Why would a pack use a rabid? Packs are prideful, very into their own hype, their own power. They take every measure to ensure everyone knows who they are.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just a theory right now. I can’t go out scenting the area, don’t have the olfactory capabilities,” she tapped her nose. “And other than the hospital, I’m not entirely sure where to start looking.”

“Why the hospital?” Isaac asked, his brow knitting with worry.

“Because this victim didn’t die, he survived. Whoever’s controlling this rabid isn’t used to failing and will probably go after dad again.”

“You sound very blase about the fact that your father is still a target,” Derek pointed out and she shrugged.

“I’ve taken precautionary measures,” she waves him off. “Besides, there’s also Melissa to think about. And Lydia, Danny, Allison, Chris... Even pack adjacent are at risk.”

“Which means you too,” Isaac surmised and again, she shrugged.

“Not to get into my own hype but I think if whoever it is controlling the rabid knew they’re bring me down on them, they’d have skipped this town.” She was staring down at Isaac’s homework and pointed at a problem. “Walk me through your working for that,” she changed the subject and thus, pulled herself into homework duty.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

She’d worked with the Argents once before. Four years ago their paths had crossed in a backwater suburb of Chicago. Back then Victoria was alive and Chris seemed as intense as ever, but Allison never had a clue. Stiles had met Kate before and they’d taken an instant dislike to one another. Where Stiles had made a name for herself for all the right reasons, Kate was one checkbox away from the psych ward and everyone knew it. So there was no love loss between the two hunters, but Chris was always fair in her eyes. He always knew right from wrong even when Victoria whispered in his ear, the devil on his shoulder, he always listened but never took an innocent life as far as she was aware.

Stiles and Victoria never got on either, but she at least respected Stiles for her reputation and her professionalism, even if she didn’t agree with the supernaturals she made a point of defending over the years.

“Bullshit,” Stiles laughed as she hacked away at a particularly thick portion of brush.

“What? You think I’d lie to you about my wife?” Chris chuckled, following her lead. They’d been wading their way through the outer rim of the Hale land; the crescent moon was high, sky cloudless, air cool but not cold and this two mile stretch was their zone; The Hale pack were scattered along the town line, hoping to catch a scent and she drew the short straw, swapping details with Allison, who went with Derek while Stiles went with Chris.

“I call bullshit,” she repeated. “She appreciated my skills, acknowledged my reputation, she never liked me. Nor did your sister for that matter. I’m just not blood thirsty enough for Argent women,” she snorted.

“She respected you,” Chris persisted. “We were taught different methods, a different code, but we’re all hunters.”

“Nu-uh,” she clucked her tongue. “I protect those who need protecting, supernatural or human, I don’t much care. The Argent line has a long, tiresome history if shoot first ask questions later. That’s not the way to protect the innocent, Chris, and you know it.”

“Like I said,” he sounded hacked through another bush. “Different methods.”

“I can say, hand on heart, a bible, on the damn holy ghost that I have never killed an innocent, can your family?” he didn’t answer but she hadn’t expected him to. “You know, my dad hates what I do. Says it’s dangerous, says there are probably hundreds of other hunters that could do what I do but I never stop because while there might be hunters that could do what I do, how many of them would?”

“Times are changing slowly, Red,” Chris admitted. “No one can kill indiscriminately anymore. Science moves too quickly for anyone to risk it. Everyone is somebody. No one is never missed.”

“So it’s not a moral change, it’s self preservation.” She heard something and froze, hand raising in a fist - a gesture for Chris to stop moving too. Her sense range expanded and she tipped her head when she felt something spike. Another gesture to Chris had them splitting up silently; him going left, her going right, firearms brandished.

Her eyes were everywhere, scanning the dark, looking for any movement, hearing trained, trying to pick up anything but after a few minutes searching, she found nothing so sighing, she flicked her flashlight on and went to find Chris, only to hear a loud gunshot close by followed by the sound of Chris crying out. She ran towards the noises and came upon the other man, flat on his back holding his arm over his very bloody abdomen. Her scar was itching like crazy and her skin thrumming with the energy of the air around her but the feeling was lessening with every second and every breath until it was gone completely.

“I think I shocked it,” Chris gritted out and Stiles knelt down beside him, using her flashlight to examine around the area he was holding.”It’s not deep,” he went on. “Gonna need stitches though.”

“You gonna shut up or am I gonna have to gag you?” she asked with a toothy smile and rolled her eyes when he snorted.

“I’m too old for that kinky shit, Red,” he laughed, a little breathless and she patted his shoulder with a touch of condescension.

“I’ll be sure to let your brat know your sense of humour is drying up in your old age.” He flinched through a broken laugh, trying to curl up against the pain until she pushed him back down. “Don’t make me get all bondage on you,” she warned. “I don’t like getting blood on my good rope unless I put it there...” she pulled out her cellphone and went through her contacts quickly, hitting call when she reached Derek’s name.

“We heard a shot,” Derek’s voice said by way of greeting.

“Well a hello and good night to you too,” she snapped. “Chris got off a shot but it got a swipe. He needs to go to the hospital and I’m not in a good position to split my focus right now.”

“Where are you?” the voice grunted and she heard the wind through the line.

“About a mile south of the preserve entrance.” The line went dead and she put the phone away. “You got a good enough hold on that?” she asked, gesturing to the wound and he made a face.

“Can you tear the sleeve from my jacket?” he held up his supporting arm and she made light work of the clothing dismemberment. The sleeve was folded and quickly put in place. They were silent for the next few minutes while they waited. “I got a look with the muzzle flash,” he admitted and she sighed.

“Come on then,” she said, sitting down crosslegged beside him.

“Female, young, blonde hair - either dirty or dark blonde. Eyes were yellow, signifying a rabid, teeth sharp, pointed, claws,” he gestured to himself. “Evident.” She snorted despite the severity of the situation. “She looked like she’s barely out of junior high,” he sighed. “13... 15 tops.”

“Shit,” Stiles cursed, a hand scrubbing over her face. “I really hoped it’d be older,” she admitted.

“Is there anything that can be done?”

“You know the answer to that already,” she shook her head. “The moon’s barely at half mast, how the fuck are they forcing the turn?”

“Maybe keeping her indoors, away from the light of it for nights on end?” she was shaking her head though.

“That wouldn’t work,” she sighed. “At least I don’t think it would, there aren’t really any studies on the subject. Would silver work?” she asked but he just shook his head, no idea. “The answer is going to be really simple and I’m going to curse myself for not realising it sooner. It always happens.”

The sound of a wolf’s howl stopped any further theorising and they both waited, armed, for the cavalry to arrive.

In the hospital an hour later, Stiles is stood by a window in one of the family waiting rooms, the entire pack camped out somewhere behind her, probably making pillow forts out of the damn furniture.

“I can see why they’re all terrified of you,” she heard Scott’s voice speak up, louder than it would were he speaking to someone closer and she finds him in the reflection in the window, eyebrow raised, ‘elaborate, peasant’ written on her face for all to see. “When we found you guys... he had his gun drawn, sure, but you... we couldn’t get a read on you at all. Couldn’t see your face, could barely see you, but at the same time... I don’t know. You’re like this overwhelming force - this presence that screamed danger, stay away.” he shrugged. “I can see why the world is terrified of you, is all.”

“I don’t hunt to instill terror, Scott,” she said easily. “I hunt to keep the peace, protect innocent souls, punish guilty ones. A healthy dose of respect and good old fashioned wariness are just bonus side-effects.” She saw Allison rubbing her face against Scott’s shoulder, instinctively seeking comfort he was all too happy to give. Considering she wasn’t a wolf, the movement was interesting. Stiles filed it away and straightened. “Well, as much as I adore hospitals, I’ll leave y’all to it.”

“S-” Scott started and stopped, scowled before starting again. “Red,” he gritted out and she obliged, pausing to listen. “You’re welcome to stay,” he offered. She arched an eyebrow and gave a pointed look towards Derek, who was in fact the alpha. Scott flushed but remained steadfast in his offer. “Whether you like it or not, you’re connected to this pack and you have a vested interest in what happens to it-”

“Don’t go there, Scotty,” she sang and he sighed.

“Just... the offer’s there, okay?” he huffed, frustrated and she nodded.

“I hear you. And I’m still going. I actually hate hospitals, I especially hate this hospital, and this floor, and this damn ward. And I absolutely hate this room. So I’m going. Goodnight,” she nodded to everyone and walked out, leaving the door open a touch because even though she wasn’t technically pack, Derek wouldn’t let her go home alone. And true to form, he was beside her when she hit the elevator call button. “I’m a big girl, D,” she murmured and he swayed towards her, bumping their shoulders together.

“Maybe I need a ride,” he offered and that was that. When they got in the empty elevator, he scowled at the door of the waiting room, still visible for their position. “You scratch my car and you will regret it, Erica,” he growled as the door closed. Stiles snorted.

They were in the car and driving out of the lot before he spoke up again.

“How old?” he asked her and she sighed.

“Barely a teenager,” she heard him curse and agreed completely.

 

 

\--- - - - ---

 

 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked Derek as they sat together on her sofa.

“What do you mean?” he asked, stupidly expressive eyebrow arched and she waved her hand in his direction.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re doing something, and it involves me. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Stop it.” His lips twitched and her eyes narrowed. She knew he was up to something!

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said easily.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, now explain it to me because I don’t.” He just snorted. “You’re... something! I don’t know,” she huffed.

“What, Red... What could I possibly be doing?” he gave an exaggerated eye roll and turned his entire head to stare at her. “Cooperating? Working with you? Protecting my pack, adjacent and extended? Trying to build up a relationship with the single most influential hunter in the entire United States, shamelessly take advantage of the fact that not only is your father a member of my pack, but you also had a relationship with my sister and former Alpha? What, Stiles, could I be doing that might make you suspicious of my motives?” She glared at him silently for a long, long time before it clicked.

The pieces in her mind fell into place, the puzzle she’d been trying to work out since she’d arrived finally worked itself out and she slumped in her seat, eyes closed, hand resting over them.

“You’re trying to give me a reason to stay in Beacon Hills,” she said and not surprisingly, he didn’t reply. “For my dad, for the pack, for its safety... I don’t know, but whatever the reason, you’re trying to get me to stay local.” Again, he didn’t speak, just sat, waiting. “You know how much I hate it here, right? You know the relationship with my dad I’ve sacrificed because I couldn’t come back-”

“You’re here now,” he reasoned.

“I’m on a hunt,” she reasoned right back.

“You came back to Beacon Hills long before you knew the attack was supernatural - long before you even suspected it. Look, I’m not saying make a decision now, I’m not even asking you to make a decision. I’m not asking anything. I’m telling you, there are more important things in the world than hunting the things that go bump in the night.”

“It’s not about the hunt, Derek!” she snapped. “It’s about the lives I save doing it!”

“And that’s commendable, I respect you for doing what you do, so did Laura... but that’s not all there is in life.”

“It’s better than spending my days in this vatt of festering bad memories,” she sneered, the expression feeling ugly to even herself, and turned away from him.

“You missed your dad’s wedding,” he said. “You’re not around when he needs something other than his wife-”

“Don’t you dare sit there and lecture me about family, Derek Hale,” she spat.

“What? Because I don’t have one?” he countered. “Because I got my family killed because I was a stupid fucking kid who got a boner over a pretty girl? Because I couldn’t keep my sister safe from our uncle?” he snarled and she stared, eyes widening.

“You still believe that, don’t you?” she breathed but he just gritted his teeth.

“We’re not talking about my shortcomings,” he ground out. “You have a family here, you have alive, flesh and blood family, who loves you and wants you home more-”

“What’s going on with my dad?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. She’d asked the question so quickly he didn’t have a hope in hell, wolf reflexes or not, of hiding the flinch the question provoked. “I know about the heart attack, I know about the gunshot, I know about the doctor telling him to slow down - what don’t I know about my father, Derek?” She watched the mixed emotions wash over his face in quick succession; wariness, fear, nervousness, hope, determination, faith... and so many more, and just waited.

“Scott doesn’t know,” he said quietly and she felt her entire body tense. “I only know because I overheard them talking about it when I went over to the house a few months ago. They realised I’d overheard and asked me to keep quiet. It was their decision, I respected it.”

“You haven’t told me what secret you’re keeping,” she murmured, barely whispering.

“He’s getting treatment,” he went on as if he hadn’t even heard her talk. “He’s fighting.”

“Tell me,” she demanded, watching him lick his suddenly dry lips.

“It’s cancer,” he finally said the word and she choked on her breath, hand coming to rest loosely over her mouth as she stated at Derek, almost unseeing. “I knew before I knew you were his daughter,” he went on. “But since you told me who you were, I... I just thought, if you-” he stopped himself, frustrated at being unable to find the right words.

“You thought if you gave me a reason to stay, one that wasn’t my dad having cancer, I’d be around in case he lost the fight,” she said quietly, not really looking at him at all. “I wouldn’t miss anymore time with him than I already have...” he grimaced, but nodded his head. “Laura knew about Kate - not the details I know now, but she knew,” she said and he choked on a breath of his own. “She was your big sister,” she went on. “It was her job to know everything about you and either use it to help you or to make your life hell - a completely natural sibling thing to do, so I hear. She didn’t think you were stupid though.” She blinked, refocusing on his face again, ignoring the tear tracks running down her cheeks. “And she didn’t blame you. She never told you that, but she never blamed you.”

“How...” he couldn’t finish the question but she knew what he wanted to say.

“One night when you were out, I went back to your apartment and we got talking about the past. It came up.”

They were both silent as they thought about their respective families.

 

 


	2. Part Two

\--- - - - ---

 

“All human members of the pack, don’t go out alone - go with another human or, better yet, a wolf. All wolves, be  extra vigilant , you are a target. Whether or not it only attacks humans, you, as the protectors of those humans, are a target. If not to kill then to incapacitate because if you’re down, they’re unprotected. If you ever get into a situation where you’re likely to be separated from your human,  don’t . I don’t care if you’re on a date, at school, in the damn parking lot. You leave your human, you answer to  me .” Stiles stared down at the pack stood before her. Derek was stood off to the side, leaning against a pillar with his arms folded over his chest. “And trust me when I say I’m way more scarier than your alpha.”

“Why can’t we pair up like you and my dad did?” Allison asked and Stiles gave her an exaggerated ‘are you stupid’ look that the kid didn’t really relish in.

“Because neither of us were wolves, so neither of us could catch a scent. By the time the wolves did arrived, the scent died. Scents of rabids dissipate  quickly . It’s part of their natural defenses from other predators, because their mind isn’t rational like yours,” she looked at the wolves of the pack. “They need the defense against hunters with more brain power and a heightened olfactory system.”

“So their natural defense against our type of wolf is something that battles our wolf’s best hunting tool?” Lydia asked, eyebrow raised, and Stiles nodded. “What’s the window?”

“Best we ever tested was 10 minutes, but that’s generous, given how attuned to the scent of the rabid our wolf was.” Her tone was so blase they all froze, staring at her with a whole range of emotions, and she snorted. “Picture this, rabid meets rational, cupid pops his shiny hiney down to Earth, shoots one of both in the ass and presto! They fall in love. A match made in the depths of purgatory by powers with way too much free time on their hands.”

“And your part?” Danny asked, looking genuinely curious.

“I was the only hunter with a good enough reputation,” she shrugged. “I don’t kill before I question.”

Not long after that, the pack started to file out. Scott told her that her dad wanted to speak to her and left, following Isaac and Allison. She noted that before each member left, they stopped by Derek and he either nuzzled their cheek or squeezed the back of their necks for comfort and/or reassurance.

“You’re good with them,” she commented when he told her they were out of earshot.

“I’m still learning,” he shrugged. “Are you going to see your dad?”

“Still weighing my options up,” she admitted and jumped back to sit on the table behind her, swinging her legs back and forth. “Would you look after him? If I left?” she asked. “Protect him from anymore supernatural bullshit?” Derek gave her a long, measured look before answering.

“I’d protect him,” he promised. “I’d send you updates whenever I saw him and when it got near the end, I’d go out and drag you back here kicking and screaming because I know, despite everything, you still love him and you don’t want him to die alone.” The  Melissa and Scott notwithstanding,  went unsaid.

She bowed her head, hands gripping the edge of the table tightly, legs no longer swinging. “Would turning him help at this point?” she asked.

“I offered him the bite, he said thanks but no thanks.” She snorted.

“Of course he did.”

She did end up going to the hospital and because Derek needed a buddy in their buddy-system plan, he went with her.

“I’m terrified,” he’d deadpanned at her when she asked why he was following her out. “Can’t be left alone.” She called bullshit the entire ride to the hospital.

“He’s been moved to a private room, dear,” the receptionist at the hospital entrance said kindly and Stiles just followed her directions until both her and Derek were walking down a corridor towards a guarded room. This room didn’t have glass walls and she figured that was a good thing. Privacy and all that. Despite her earlier talk with Derek, she was still pissed at all the secrecy.

“Red,” a voice called out behind them and they turned, watching Melissa slowly making her way towards them.

“I’m not talking to you,” Stiles said and about turned, continuing her way down the corridor. She heard Derek’s voice murmuring something but couldn’t make out the words and didn’t bother asking when he jogged to catch up with her. “Oh goodie, it’s the new kid,” she drawled when she got close enough to recognise Deputy Parish. “What, you’re not gonna come to their defence? Chastise me for being a terrible daughter?”

“Would you like me to chastise you like I would one of my betas?” Derek asked easily.

“I can defend myself easily in a life or death situation, I probably couldn’t hold my own against one of your ‘lets teach em a lesson’ plans,” she rolled her eyes.

“There’s always spanking,” Derek absolutely didn’t smirk as Parish and the unnamed officer with him froze, eyes widening, mouths dropping open.

“And they say romance is dead,” she turned back and batted her eyelashes at the alpha, rolling her eyes when he lightly tapped her on the ass. “You’re gonna so pay for that later, cujo,” she muttered as the officers let them through without further word and Derek snorted. “You’d be surprised at how imaginative I can be.”

“I really wouldn’t,” he promised and the door clicked shut behind them.

“So,” Stiles started as she stood at the end of her father’s bed, the injured man staring at her, eyes flicking to Derek every so often. “Am I getting ‘worst daughter of the year’ or do you genuinely not give a shit about what I may or may not think when shit happens to you and I’m the last person to know about it?”

“I don’t-”

“Cancer, dad.” Her tone was clipped and she watched him sigh, defeated.

Two hours later, Stiles walked back down the corridor, Derek at her side. When they reached the elevator and got inside, Derek reached over and hit the emergency stop switch.

“When my mom died, the doctors forgot about her for so long, I’d been holding her cold, dead hand in my own for almost two hours. Completely alone. Dad arrived 20 minutes later, had been at a car crash in town somewhere. He never looked at me the same way again... I never trusted him with my mental well being again.”

“How old were you?” Derek asked and she let her head drop back against the wall. 

“Just turned 10.” Her laugh was bitter. "He fell into a bottle, I fell into therapists offices all over the goddamn county."

“Do you believe being away from Beacon Hills has helped you or just put off you dealing with whatever it is you need to deal with?” She snorted, giving him a small smile.

“I’ve been asking myself that question for 10 years,” and she flipped the emergency switch again. 

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“We have it’s scent, I’m trailing it but keeping my distance.” Derek and Stiles shared a look and headed back to the car quickly.

“Where?” Derek asked.

“About half a mile west of Oak Bank Waterfall. I crossed the rocks, you should be able to pick up my scent on the other side. Left my jacket on the rocks... that’s my direction.”

“Don’t engage, Isaac,” Derek ordered. “Tell Allison to keep her eyes sharp - dart from a distance - use the tip Red gave her. Do not approach if it goes down.” He ended the call and Stiles put her foot down. “What are we going to do if we find it?” he asked but Stiles didn’t answer.

It wasn’t long before they got as far as they could get in the car so they left it, continuing on foot until 10 minutes later, they were at the foot of the waterfall, and luckily for them, they were on the side where Isaac’s jacket was so Derek made quick work of picking up the scent and they took off. 

They caught up with Isaac and Allison at around the same time Erica, Boyd and Scott arrived, Lydia and Danny not being available for the search that time. 

“Did you lose the scent?” Derek asked as Stiles scanned the area. She pulled a small pair of binoculars out and did another once over.

“I shot something that was moving,” Allison admitted, but she sounded troubled.by it. “I don’t know if it was the right thing though. Derek,” she stuttered. “It looked like a kid... but it just kept moving, the sedative didn’t affect it at all.” Scott moved to stand next to her, arm winding around her waist and squeezing while Stiles remained stoic and silent. She went back to scanning and paused when she saw a flash of something pale.

“The rabid is a kid,” Derek admitted and the pack started shifting, murmuring uneasily. It went against everything the wolf stood for to attack a child, Stiles understood that.

“You all need to get out of here now,” she said, voice low and tense. “Allison, stay with me, wolves, go.  Now ,” she growled when they started protesting. “Derek, cover their scent as much as you can. I’ll call you later.” When no one moved, she fired a warning shot into the ground at their feet, officially attracting the attention of anything that might be out there. “Move,” she growled without moving her gaze from her binoculars.

“We are talking about this later,” Derek snarled in her ear and she patted his shoulder before pushing him away.

“What do you see?” Allison asked Stiles, for the first time since their arrival, grimaced, slipping her firearm back into its holster.

“Nothing good. Come on, you’re gonna learn something about hunting today.” Her hood was pulled up and she turned to Allison, gesturing for her to do the same. She carefully ran her thumb and index finger over the seam of Allison’s black hood, murmuring under her breath until she was finished. The fabric shimmered and Allison’s face became fainter, more fluid, like heat waves or gas in air.

“What did you just do?” she asked.

“Nothing as good as mine, just a low level perception filter. It’ll hide your face from anyone supernatural, keeping your identity a secret from them. When we get back I’ll teach you how to do it more permanently. This doesn’t last more than 48 hours,” she made a vague gesture to Allison’s hood and the girl nodded. “Come on, hunting waits for no one, kid,” and they were walking.

“What did you see? Before I mean...”

“There are some things that come with hunting that you can’t escape. The notion that evil intentions overlook the innocence of childhood is something you learn is false very quickly. A child can be good or not so good, and whatever they are, they have the imagination to back it up. Supernaturally inclined children are susceptible to outside control - more often than not, it’s by a family member. Like the old Hale pack. Alpha Hale controlled her children to keep them safe. There are some people who control supernatural kids to use them as tools or weapons.”

“You think someone is controlling this kid, making... making  it ,” she faltered. “Go around hurting people?”

“Not just people,” Stiles said firmly. “Human pack members. Different packs across the country... You see, there used to be a second rabid, but a hunter killed it a few years ago. So this one is now on its own and its being used.”

“Do you know who’s doing the using?” Allison asked and Stiles pulled them to a stop as they neared the edge of a clearing in the trees.

“I do now,” she murmured, scanning the area. Her scar was itching, tattoos tingling, her blood pumping in a steady rhythm, the calm helping her concentrate on expanding her senses. “Don’t talk, don’t react, don’t twitch anything they can see, don’t make any sudden movements, don’t. React.” Stiles pulled her close, staring into her eyes, her expression severe. “Don’t be scared, don’t allow yourself to be scared. They’ll hear your heart and they’ll use it. Okay?” Allison stared back at her, eyes wide, a little horrified.

“Are we in danger?”  she mouthed, hands fluttering as she signed something quickly. Stiles nodded, impressed by her resourcefulness.

“Not iminently,” she murmured.

She took a deep, calming breath and moved out into the open air of the clearing, herself and Allison stopping five paces in. Allison stood a step behind her and to the right, her hands clasped behind her. A glance at her told Stiles she looked calm and collected.

“You’re slipping, Little Red,” a voice purred, echoing across the clearing and disappearing beyond the tree line. Stiles, for her part, smiled and turned around to face its owner.

“You know I don’t speak with the help, Kali,” Stiles clucked her tongue and the woman stood a few meters away paused, her entire body stopping for a split second before she was moving again, swaying from side to side, a small, amused smile touching the corner of her lips. “That said,” she continued easily. “You have my condolences...” Kali tipped her head to the side, eyebrow arching. “Your pack,” Stiles clarified and the woman froze, smile dropping. “I recall you being close, I’m sorry for your loss.” Stiles moved, a few paces to the left, then back again. “Unless of course, you sacrificed them to boost your power... in which case,” she stopped moving, now stood back where she began. “I hope they haunt you.” Kali snarled but didn’t advance her position. “Tell me, did Julia, sweet, adoring Julia... did she scream when you killed her? What about Abby?” Stiles’ expression was hard, though she knew Kali couldn’t see. She was vindicated when Kali flinched though. “You remember Abby... you must do. I was there for her awakening...” she chuckled. “You were so proud of your betas... producing a perfect cub... she was beautiful. Did you kill her too?”

“They’re gone,” Kali ground out through clenched teeth and Stiles studied her.

“You were once a model for younger packs to look up to, you know that? Jasper, Amei, Katie, Hannah, Felix, Thomas...”

“Shut your mouth,” Kali was breathing hard and Stiles knew she was on the edge of her control threshold. 

“I wonder...” Stiles continued. “What about Michael?”

The comment was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back and Kali roared, crouching down and launching herself at Stiles.

“You’re slipping, Kali,” Stiles’ smirk was lost on the snarling Alpha as one gloved hand gripped her neck while the other grasped a flailing arm and  squeezed . “I hope the loss of your entire world was worth whatever you gained... because there’s a special place in hell for those who kill their own.” Stiles shoved Kali away, delivering a solid kick to her midsection, the soul of her boot being lined with mountain ash as it were, much like her gloves, Kali was propelled across the clearing.

“What are you doing here, Little Red?” Kali asked when she righted herself.

“On a hunt, training the next generation,” she gestured back to Allison, who hadn’t moved a muscle. And from how little Kali had actually looked in her direction, she was doing a good job keeping herself calm too. “See the local pack reached out and you know what I’m like for a good cause! A sucker,” she let out a short barking laugh. “The victim of both attacks were quite close with the pack you see...” she continued and watched Kali’s reactions carefully. “You boys won’t have a spine to share between you if you don’t stop your approach in the next three seconds...” she called out without looking away from Kali, whose eyes widened. They all waited while a pair of twins stepped out of the trees and came to a stop either side of Kali. Stiles sighed.

“Long time no see, Red,” one of the twins spoke up, lips twitching, eyes switching between brown and red. 

“I had such high hopes for you two,” she lamented, sounding genuinely saddened by what she was witnessing.

“We can’t say we’re disappointed by what we’ve become,” the other twin shrugged. “We’ve found our lot.”

“And what’s the turnover?”

“As yet undetermined...” a new voice sounded out through the clearing, silky smooth, gravelly, charismatic, confident... hell, it sounded  amused  and Stiles watched a fourth man stepping out of the tree line.

“Oh look at you,” she drawled, shifting her stance a touch. “I heard a tall tale that told of your untimely demise not so long since... Did you go to the dark side? Did you become...  undead ?” she grinned and the man looked as amused as he’d sounded.

“What can I say? I made a deal with the devil and he gave me back my legs,” his arms were spread out wide. “The turnaround, as you mentioned, yes... undetermined because.. well... there has only been one death thus far. That is, the death that lead to my being here today so, it’s all a vicious cycle really.”

“And you’ve bagged yourself a baby rabid too... how quaint.” She watched his expression and saw him twitch minutely before it was covered up. “Can’t imagine it’s doing too well right now, is it?” she reached back, hand open, and instantly knowing what Stiles wanted, Allison put a small phial in the palm of her hand. When Stiles held it up and shook it, she chuckled. “On it’s own, reversible by time. With the magic infusion though...” she clucked her tongue. “Who can tell?”

“What makes you think we have in our possession, the rabid you speak of?” the man asked, moving towards the center of the clearing. 

“Because I saw the frantic look only a parent could have when their child is taken ill on the man suspiciously missing from tonight's proceedings...” She shifted again, rolling her head and cracking her neck. “Which begs the question... did you find an alpha in a pack of rabids, or two rabids in a pack of... the more mentally sound, shall we say, subspecies of werewolf..?” The gathered wolves tensed collectively and she smiled. “So it’s him,” she surmised and the ringleader took a threatening step towards both hunters.

“We’ve never met,” the man spoke to her directly. “But I’ve heard nothing but good and positive things about you my dear.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Stiles took a step forward and her arms dropped down by her sides. “What would the late, great, Talia Hale think of her brother now?” the man flinched visibly. “Appropriating a den of alphas, forcing alphas to kill their packs, using a child to kill of humans in otherwise peaceful family packs. What, you think because your family was destroyed no one else is allowed to be happy?”

“This is  my territory,” the man growled. 

“Or is it him? Is he the one in charge?” She didn’t move as he took a step towards her.

“You. Know.  Nothing! Little Red,” he snarled and she smiled.

“Quite the contrary, Peter,” she purred. “What I know would have you running toward the lunar eclipse and  begging for a swift end. Your little friend, the one with the rabid child... whatever vendetta he has against pack humans,” Peter, Kali and both twins stiffened as one. “It’s over.”

Peter looked amused at her comment, despite being shocked by her knowledge. “My dear, don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Stiles waited in silence until Peter moved back towards Kali and the twins before she opened her mouth. “The next time I see any of you, you’re answering for your crimes.”

“You have no jurisdiction over us,” Kali sneered. 

“Felix, Hannah and Abby say otherwise.” Kali roared but instead of flying at her again, she disappeared into the treeline. Stiles felt her run to the edge of her senses and disappear. 

“You were warned, Little Red,” Peter smiled.

“I’ll send your nephew your regards...” 

She turned around, putting her back to the wolves and walked away, Allison matching her step for step.

“Give my love to your father, Ms Argent!” Peter called out with a laugh and Stiles grasped Allison’s hand tightly.

They were silent as they walked and Stiles concentrated on her senses, making sure no one followed them. She stretched them out further than she ever had before but eventually, they reached the car she’d left earlier when she’d been with Derek. After doing a quick sweep to make sure all was well, they got inside and drove.

“What did you see in the binoculars?” Allison asked a few minutes after they set off.

“Grief.”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“You didn’t come straight to me,” Derek was standing at her door, behind the ash line, and Stiles tipped her head, offering him a small smile.

“You are not my alpha,” she pointed out. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I didn’t mean-” he stopped, frustrated. “We were  worried ,” he pressed. “And I  am Allison’s alpha.”

“Pouting is an interesting look on you,” she commented and he huffed, finally stepping over the threshold when she waved a hand, removing the ash line and replacing it when he was fully inside. “I was trying to work it all out in my head before I came to you,” she admitted, padding across the floor back to the rug in front of the fireplace, where she sat down cross legged.

“What do you need to work out?” he asked, following her. “You met whatever it is that’s controlling the rabid, simple.”

“Not quite,” she grimaced. “Peter Hale is alive, and is leading a pack of alphas. One of the alphas has a dependent - a child... whether it’s his or not, I don’t know. It looked like it was his. But the child is the rabid. Allison knocked it out with the enchanted sedative dosed tip and when I was watching through the binoculars, I saw the father... the alpha acting like the child was dead. I didn’t recognise him, but I saw a woman with him who I  did recognise, which is why I told you all to leave.”

She watched Derek’s face carefully, emotions flickering over it like rapid fire: confusion, disbelief, loss, anger, betrayal, wariness, fear and protectiveness to name a few.

“Peter-” he began but the word, the  name was choked even to his own ears. “ How?” he breathed and Stiles shrugged.

“That, I don’t know. We didn’t exactly exchange much by way of pleasantries. I told him he wasn’t welcome he didn’t take kindly to being told what to do.” They sat in silence while they both tried to come to terms with what was actually going on and the implications that came with the new players on the board.

“What do they have?” Derek asked. “In their arsenal I mean... who’re they working with?”

“It’s a pack from what I can gather,” she was frowning though. “I’ve heard tell of a pack of alphas running around America and finding packs old and new, trying to break them and build up their own at the same time. But when I heard about it, all I heard was Deucalion.” At Derek’s raised eyebrow, she raised her own. “You know the name?”

“Vaguely,” he admitted. “He was once the alpha of a pack that did business with my mother. She was one of those alphas other alphas came to for advice, a neutral ear.” Stiles nodded in understanding.

“He wasn’t there though, Peter was. Peter said, in too few words, that he’d taken out Deucalion and had become the new leader of the pack of alphas.” Derek was frowning.

“How many are in the pack?”

“Peter,” she started. “The alpha I didn’t meet, with the rabid child. An alpha called Kali... she’s a piece of work,” Stiles shook her head. “And a pair of twins. I’ve met them before, but they were never alphas. They were barely classed as betas. I can see why they’d go for the more power option because their pack never treated them like a pack’s supposed to treat it’s members, but still... two wrongs and all that,” she waved a hand dismissively. “So... five alphas that I know of, and the rabid child.”

“Do they know why you’re here?” Derek asked, leaving the question as it was, not elaborating.

“Not yet,” she admitted, sounding thankful. “I don’t know what would happen if it was discovered...”

“He’s gonna be okay, Red, okay? They’re both going to be just fine. You said Allison took the rabid down? Will the sedative wear off?” Stiles was shrugging her shoulders even as he asked the question.

“It’s a science and we only had half the equation,” she grimaced. “We erred on the side of caution and overdid the dosage. It might wear off eventually, but only after the magic dissipated... which will take at least-” she frowned in thought for a few seconds. “Outside of Beacon Hills I would’ve said a month. Inside, surrounded by all this supernatural stuff... maybe five? Six months tops.”

“Could they counteract the magic?”

“It’s keyed to me, so no.” Derek was thoughtful again.

“What about the chemical aspect? Could they counteract the chemical side of the sedative?”

“Theoretically, yes, if they A, knew what sedative we used, and B, knew the dosage. Only I know that information so their only option is to come to me directly.”

“Or go through the pack to get to you,” Derek pointed out and she stiffened, then sighed. “It’s a legitimate plan of attack, you’re known for protecting the innocent in any equation, the pack, for all intents and purposes, are innocent. I’m only voicing what Peter’s thinking...”

“They’d have to rely on the fact that I would do something though,” she countered. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, eyebrow raised and if the situation weren’t so serious she’d tell him his eyebrows are actually ridiculous. 

“I can think of reasons why it would be a bad idea,” she rolled her eyes but waved his protests away. “I protect the innocent, human or supernatural. Your little band of teenagers haven’t done anything to me, though my dad’s proximity to all this bullshit is a seriously  bad thing .” He winces, but nods in understanding. “I want to know how your uncle, the uncle you told me was dead, is now alive.” Derek growled under his breath, frustration colouring the sound and Stiles could empathise to a point, but mostly she just wanted information.

“I had no idea he was even  alive! ” he ground out and she actually believed him. He looked genuinely torn but she knew this was one family member he could never get back. The Peter Hale he knew and grew up knowing was long dead. His expression changed a few seconds after his statement, frowning, confused as he turned towards the door. “Next floor down!” he called and Stiles arched an eyebrow. “Jackson is here with Lydia...”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

When Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin walked into Stiles’ loft, she immediately saw something was wrong; the girl looked pale, frazzled, almost  scared . Jackson was jumpy, eyes darting everywhere as if an enemy was ready to jump out and try take her away from him. He hovered but she obviously didn’t want to be touched so he kept a respectable distance.. of barely 12 inches.

“I’m okay, Jackson,” Lydia whispered gently and the kid glared at everything  but her before obligingly backing away a few more feet. “Allison told me Peter Hale was in the forest... he was leading the Alpha Pack,” she started and Stiles nodded, waiting. “Last year, he used me - damn near sent me insane - to bring himself back from whatever Hell he’d been sent to. He disappeared straight away and hasn’t shown his face since.” The silence rang out louder than a damn church bell and Stiles tried to process what she’d just heard. “So,” the girl took a seat on one sofa while Stiles and Derek took the other, opposite her and Jackson. “What do you want to know?”

“Three things,” Stiles said almost instantly, her mind a buzzing  hive of activity. “The nature of your connection to Peter Hale, explain it. “ She held one finger up. “Anything you can remember about what he did and how he used you to resurrect himself, tell me,” a second finger joined the first. “Has he had  any contact with you since he rose from the dead? And by any, I mean  any . Muggle, magical, whatever. Even if you dreamed about something and he was mentioned or it was insinuated that he was the reason for the dream, I need to know. And then, we’re going to work on protecting your mind.” Lydia’s eyes widened.

“But Deaton said-”

“Deaton protects the balance,” Stiles said easily. “He can’t favour one side over the other. I protect the innocent. Big difference, kid.”

She wasn’t much of a help in the end; nightmares, hallucinations, lost time, in possession of way too much wolfsbane to be healthy... most of what Peter did to her, it seemed, was mental and remained locked in her subconscious or just wasn’t there at all. Still, a deal was a deal. Stiles gave Lydia some reading material and some meditation exercises to get her started. Protecting the mind wasn’t as easy as waving a wand and saying a magic word, after all.

“This isn’t Hogwarts,” Stiles rolled her eyes. “But those exercises will help you focus more. “Depending on how much of a Potter geek you are, the various theories bouncing around about Occlumency - the entirely fictional mind magic - is based loosely off  basic common sense . You’re more focused when you relax, you relax when you meditate. Focus helps the protection process.” She pointed a finger at Jackson. “I can totally still kick your ass, closet geek notwithstanding.” The kid held his hands up in surrender but his lips were twitching. It was a better reaction than out and out fear, Stiles supposed, so she took what she could get.

“You need to be careful,” Derek spoke up for the first time since Lydia had started talking about her experiences with his uncle. “Even if he can’t manipulate you, he can use your fear of him against you and against us. He can use your relationship with any one of us to get information on us. Stick together,” he looked at Jackson briefly before turning back to Lydia. “Stick with as many pack members as possible. Carry wolfsbane, mountain ash -  anything. Just protect yourself from him, got it?”

She bit her lip, expression worried, but nodded firmly, determination setting in. The teenagers left the loft a few minutes later.

Stiles started moving around, rolling her shoulders and stretching her muscles, shaking herself out as she thought about this entire clusterfuck of a situation. She felt Derek watching her but ignored him, instead, bending at the hip and stretching out her lower back and thighs. She continued to move and stretch until her entire body felt loose.

“Now that the rabid is down,” she began. “What do you expect Peter will do?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said honestly. “The uncle I knew growing up and the one condoning all this murder... they’re not the same man. The fire, death... it all changed him. He lost his mate, I’m surprised he survived at all.”

“Objectively,” she pushed on. “Say you’re planning an attack, your main weapon was just taken out and you're stuck with your pack. Teeth, claws and super strength. Everyone is an amped up alpha.”

“Take out the weakest links?” Derek suggested but Stiles shook her head.

“They’ve been doing that across America... they’ve targeted packs with humans and they’ve removed the human element. Like they wanted to cleanse each pack of the human infection,” she grimaced at the wording but it was true. That’s what the alpha pack had been doing. “And we still don’t know how they were controlling the rabid’s turn. Or if it could be used to control your betas change... and if it is, would they induce the change while the pack humans are around and further still, if that happens, would your betas attack the pack humans?”

“We’ve trained for situations like this, the betas wouldn’t attack the pack humans, any of them - up to and including Chris.” He gave her a considering look however and she understood.

“But if I was there, they’d see me as the threat,” she surmised and he shrugged.

“You’ve been helping the pack ever since you arrived, I’ve scented you in front of them, we’ve been nothing but cooperative, It’s 60/40 in our favour,” he said easily. “But the conversation is all but moot, because we’re not restrained to the lunar cycle for our changes. We can change at will, and often do because he helps our control. A rabid’s change cycle is very strict.”

At the last word, Stiles’ head snapped up, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She felt the blood leaving her face as realisation set in - as possibilities flooded her mind.

“- Stiles!” Derek snapped, fingers clicking together in front of her face, forcing her out of her semi-trance. “What just happened?” he asked, tone leaving no room for argument.

“The magic,” she said, starting to pace up and down quickly. “The magic behind whatever it is they’re doing to manipulate the rabid’s turns...” her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to picture the formulae in her head. “It’s possible the residual magic from the rabid’s natural lunar cycle could eat away at the magic in the sedative. It’s really hard to explain, don’t ask, just trust me. It could either be very good for us, or very bad.”

“So the rabid isn’t out of the picture? We need to keep ourselves on alert?”

She was shaking her head but he could tell it wasn’t a negative response but a thin hope, on her part, that he was wrong. She continued until everything about her just  stopped  and she slumped, shoulders dropping, head bowed, arms hanging limp by her sides. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” his voice was gentle and he slowly reached out, hooking his finger under her chin to lift it up so he could meet her eyes - eyes that shone with deep seated pain and no small amount of confusion. “Take a breath, let me in on your thought process, okay?” he asked and she took a breath as instructed before nodding her head.

“Because I don’t know how they’ve been controlling the rabid, I can’t make a solid prediction on how - whatever it is - will affect what we gave it to knock it out. If it’s something as simple as force of will coupled with a parent’s guidance and a little extra juice from wherever... the sedative I made up will keep it down for months untested. If they’re using magic to force the lunar cycle - if they’re putting the rabid’s already magic fuelled system through more strain by flooding it with yet more magic... the combination of it’s  natural  magic and their manufactured magic, so to speak-” Derek nodded, understanding, and she went on. “That could eat through the magic and the chemistry of the sedative in something close to... 24 hours. Maybe 72 if we’re lucky and because of the rabid’s size and age, not as much magic is required so it’s got more work to do.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his hands resting on her upper arms. “I’ll put the alert out to the pack and make sure they’re on alert.” He released her after she nodded and pulled his phone out. She moved back to the sofa and sat down, mind still racing until he returned and stood behind her, hands coming forward to knead at her shoulder muscles. “I know you’re on a hunt, but you’re also home. You can’t be everywhere all the time, you need to rest yourself, your body and your mind. You’ll be no good to yourself, your dad or the rest of the pack if you’re not on top form.”

“You’re about a subtle as a sledge hammer, Hale,” she muttered and let her head drop forward, shivering as Derek’s thumbs pressed a line going up her spine and into her hairline.

“If you’re going to make another reference to my sister, please don’t,” he murmured and she snorted.

“Your sister was a great lady,” she defended and he made a noise of agreement. “That said, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Don’t strain yourself, Red,” he chuckled, fingers splaying out either side of her neck and moving down to her neckline before travelling outwards back to her shoulders. “I’ve not been the best example of an Alpha,” he admitted.

“But you’re still learning, and I can forgive that,” she admitted. “You’ve been accommodating with me, you’ve listened, invited me into your pack - you went against every instincts an Alpha should have when confronted with a hunter of  any calibre, and that shows a tremendous level of control. You know Argent a lot better than you know me but you don’t let him in your loft for friendly sparring sessions...” 

“Some people wouldn’t call letting a renowned hunter into their pack stronghold a smart move,” he said lightly and she gave a breathy laugh.

“The alliance can be explained to allies who question your competency, I’m an  excellent reference, I’ll have you know -  Holy fuck , you should do this for a living,” she groaned as he worked out a particularly nasty knot in her right shoulder.

“It’s been said,” he admitted and the smirk on his lips was also on his voice. She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t let it go to your head, brat,” she warned and heard a huffed out laugh as he continued to work. Ten minutes later, he was done and was just stood behind her, hands resting on her shoulders easily, comfortably. “You’re not going to make leaving easy for me, are you?” she asked and heard him chuckle as the hands gently squeezed her shoulder.

“I told you I’d do my level best to get you to stay-”

“You can’t bullshit me kid,” she patted his hand with her own. “I know a beta can be with whomever they like - they’re not limited by anything other than attraction. I also know an Alpha has to be careful. Don’t make the mistake your sister made.” She didn’t do anything when his grip tensed briefly before the hands slipped away and he joined her on the sofa.

“I’m not pimping myself out to you, don’t flatter yourself, Red,” he was rolling his eyes and she flashed him a grin, all teeth. “My sister made a lot of mistakes in her grief, you weren’t one of them,” he promised. “You were the catalyst to get her to sort herself out in the end. You showed her what it could be like and while you weren’t her mate, when she realised she could feel something other than pain and anger again, she let herself open up to the possibility of finding her true mate. She just died before she found them.”

“You think I’m your mate?” she asked him and he flushed, but held her gaze.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly and she arched an eyebrow. “It’s not as cut and dry as simply sniffing someone out and it being love at first sight, not everyone is Scott freaking McCall,” there was a story there and Stiles would know it eventually, as of that moment however she had more pressing things to concern herself with. “But would it be so bad?” he continued. “To entertain the possibility of having something more? Something stable? A home? A family?”

“A pack?” she supplied and this time, he averted his eyes. “I’m not saying the idea that I’m your mate is something I would be averse to, I’m not an idiot. I just… I don’t know if-“ she cut herself off and sighed.

“I’m not throwing this at you because I want you to stay in town, you should stay in town because you want to, not because of what may or may not be between us-“

“Don’t kid yourself, Cujo,” she snorted. “I’m not an expert on werewolf mating lore, it’s generally not required for my profession. The only time I’ve come into contact with the concept of mates is when I accidentally found myself witnessing a claiming after I helped a pack out in Wichita a few years ago. I can’t – I don’t know if I can be what you need in a mate, Derek,” she said finally but he didn’t seem disheartened, only appreciative of her honesty. “I don’t know if I have it in me to be anything more than what I am right now – my relationships have been nameless and more often than not, faceless. Laura is the most memorable partner I’ve ever had and rather than just not wanting the trouble, I just haven’t been able to commit. I’m a hunter. I travel – I move from state to state, hunting bad guys and saving lives. I don’t know how to  be anything else.”

She watched him watching her, almost (but not quite) leaning into the fingers that reached out to move a piece of hair that had fallen onto her face. “I do feel something for you,” he finally admitted. “It’s not quite love but it’s strong. I feel drawn to you… I care for you in more than just a member of the pack…”

“Can we not,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “I can’t be that for you, not right now and if it ever could happen, I have no idea when it might. You can’t wait around for a maybe until I’m ready to give you an answer and I can’t let myself – I can’t stop being me, doing what I do, long enough to give you one.” The sofa moved under her and she opened her eyes halfway to see him moving closer, face moving towards hers until they were practically sharing the same breath. “I can’t be what you need,” she whispered and he smiled, turning his head and pressing his lips to her cheek before moving away again. “You’re not pressing this…” she said and he shrugged, standing up.

“You know where I stand, I know where you stand. We’ll do with it what we will and whatever happens, whenever it happens… we’ll live with it.”

“You’re being remarkably level headed about what is essentially, rejection,” she said carefully and he shrugged easily.

“Can’t force someone to do what you want them to do.” She just narrowed her eyes.

“You’re plotting,” she said, making him snort, amused. “Don’t think I’m not onto you, Hale. I know your game.” Her index finger reached out and jabbed him in the abdomen, the closest part of him she could physically reach. “I’m onto you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his smile was as innocent as the statement and she rolled her eyes before her expression turned thoughtful.

“Derek,” she took a breath, steeling herself. “If I go… If I leave, after this rabid situation is dealt with – I’m not going to hang around. You know that, right? I mean, I can do a lot of things, but I can’t do goodbyes.”

“As long as you make sure to see your dad before you leave, I won’t hold it against you.” His smile was sincere, his entire  being was sincere and it honestly confused her.

She knew what he wanted, knew what it was taking for him to hang on a maybe, and a feeble one at that. She couldn’t promise him anything, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. When she saw him in New York, he was still a minor, had an attitude problem stemming from the bullshit that was Kate Argent and he was still grieving. She only spoke to him a few times because he focus had been Laura – Laura who had been on a curve of self-destruction until they met. Stiles wasn’t an idiot now and she hadn’t been one back then either, she knew the lay of the land that was Laura Amelia Hale and by the end, she’d started feeling something more than friendship for the Alpha… but that had been fleeting. It was something Stiles knew she couldn’t afford and Laura knew she couldn’t find with Sties.

“Red?” Derek was clicking his fingers in front of her face and she blinked, scowling and swatting the fingers away, much to his amusement. “Where’d you go?” he asked, stepping back a few paces and leaning against the arm of the sofa opposite the one she was sat on.

“Nowhere relevant,” she answered, waving a hand at the door, the line of mountain ash flying up and into its jar. “Go, I’m gonna shower and eat. I’ll be up later when everyone else arrives.”

“Alright,” he nodded his head and pushed away from the sofa, turning and walking to the door. “You need to think about getting over your dad not talking to you,” he added as the door opened. She frowned at him but he just shrugged. “As an Alpha,” he said easily. “A member of my pack is hurting, you can help fix that. I’m asking you to think about it.”

“You seem to be asking me to think about a lot of things lately,” she grumbled and he rolled his eyes. “Fine,” she said with a heavy, put-upon sigh. “I’ll think about everything we’ve spoken about. You just remember your promise about keeping me updated if I leave.” She watched his face carefully and saw the slight pinch of his eyebrows, the tightening of his jaw and she  knew he was betting on her staying for one reason or another. “Derek,” she said. “There’s a very high likelihood that I’ll leave after all this, you need to  not bank on my staying.”

“You’ll do what’s best for you,” he said by way of replying and closed the door after stepping out. She waved the ash line back in place more out of habit than anything else and sighed.

This entire situation was getting out of control.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“Have you been to see him yet?” Scott asked from the passenger seat of her car as she drove towards the town limits.

“Yup,” she said, the ‘p’ sound coming out like a pop rather than an actual letter.

“Did you do anything other than argue?” 

“Don’t preach to me, kid,” she warned and he scowled.

“You realise it’s like I’m riding around with a headless horseman, right?” he snapped, petulant and she snorted.

“Humans can see me just fine,” she sang.

“Yeah well, I can’t really change what I am, can I?” he gave a huge sigh, slumping in his seat.

“Be thankful I let you ride with me at all kid. I’m not your number one fan right now.”

“I said I was sorry-”

“No,” she held a finger up. “You didn’t. You stuttered and stumbled while your infinitely more competent girlfriend dragged your skinny little backside out of my apartment before I could kill you... and then your Alpha helped calm me down. No one has yet to apologise properly.” She drove passed the motel-slash-diner, noting idly that their special was only $5.99.  Quality.

“You haven’t given anyone a chance to,” he shot back, voice clipped. “You’ll spend time with Derek, but not with anyone else for any prolonged length - if you want in this pack, you can’t just  seduce the alpha and expect the rest of us to follow blindly. You’re a  hunter , you need to earn our trust!” She couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at his words.

“Oh sweetheart, is that what you think I’m doing?” she chuckled. “I’ll have you know, that I want in this pack about as much as I wanted to be told by my stupid brat of a step-brother that my dad once had a heart attack, and was shot. I’m helping the pack because it doesn't’ serve me to work against it. The Sheriff is attached to it, it’s a big part of his life. I would be stupid to not acknowledge that-”

“But Derek’s been scenting you a lot-”

“Because, on the off chance something happens and one of you loses what little control you have, you won’t think of me as a threat!” she snapped and he shut up, but not before snorting. She heard him mutter something under his breath but ignored him and any further attempts he made to talk.

When they reached the town line, she pulled over.

“What’re we doing out here?” Scott asked. “I thought we were meant to search the preserve?”

“Change of plan,” she said, climbing up onto the hood of her car and moving up to stand on the roof, her feet planted, balancing carefully (so as not to do anymore damage to her car), and then she pulled out a pair of binoculars. “I had the maps out last night,” she said as she searched the area first with the naked eye, then with the binoculars. “There are a few buildings out here - the distillery, old farms, abandoned industrial warehouses... but they’re all spread out. They are all, however, a stone’s throw from this road. The pack of alphas won’t cross into Hale land without a purpose-”

“They were in Hale land when you spoke to them,” Scott pointed out helpfully and she wished she had something to throw at his head.

“They were in Hale land because their rabid was leading us on a merry chase and they were watching. They stopped retreating when they heard my shot and came to chat. Don’t try and understand the mind of an alpha, Scotty, you’ll just get yourself turned around and twisted up in knots.”

The three buildings within her range of sight from that spot didn’t look very promising; two weren’t abandoned anymore and had actual construction crews roaming around, the third - the farm, was almost ruins. She’d read reports about there being a gas explosion there and the structural integrity of the building had been so bad that no one else could ever live there safely, but no one wanted to buy the land to redevelop. 

“Come on, there’s nothing here. Let’s move onto the next spot.”

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he pointed out, watching her jump down to the ground, bypassing the stepping stone that was the hood of the car completely.

“And that’s why you’re not in charge,” she said with a fake smile he couldn’t see because of her hood, but the scowl on his face told her he’d heard it so maybe it had been worth it.

“Why do you do it?” Scott asked after a few minutes of driving and she made a questioning noise in the back of her throat. “Hunting... why do you hunt?”

“I’m good at it,” she answered and he rolled his eyes. 

“But... your dad is here. You have a home here... you bought a damn apartment in this town. Why do you hunt when you could be here?” Stiles took a deep, measured breath and pulled over again - once more getting up onto the roof to look around the area.

“I don’t like Beacon Hills, Scotty,” she said through a sigh, exasperated with the kid. “And the next time you go shouting about my personal life, family ties and/or friendships, I’m gonna gag you with a wolfsbane soaked rag, got it?” She gave him a glare he couldn’t see but she figured the effect of the black void that covered her face was off putting enough because he flushed and averted his eyes to the ground. 

The movement gave her pause and she considered him for a long moment before finally turning her attention back to the area.

“The fact that you just bared your throat to me is very telling Scott,” she said lightly, catching him tense in the corner of her eye. 

“I didn’t - I don’t-” he shook his head, unable to find the right words and cursed himself for showing that kind of weakness.

“It means you already consider me pack enough to stick me in a rank higher than your own, and considering you are the head beta, you put me right up there next to Derek...” she moved from left to right, taking in the four structures around her. The first was the farm from her previous position, the second and third were possibilities as they looked like solid standing buildings, safe to squat in, safe to hide out between attacks and the final one was an old abandoned church that, if she remembered correctly, was still protected by the council. “Which begs the question,” she went on. “What position would you consider me if I were an actual pack member?” He didn’t answer and she hadn’t really expect him to. She knew exactly what position he thought she could take, and figured Derek must have been giving off some pretty pungent vibes for Scott to even think about reacting to her like he had.

Which meant Derek had the self-control of someone  without his particular personal history. Or the kid was just growing up and growing into his Alpha status. Which was comforting, she supposed.

“What are you looking for?” Scott asked and she ignored the question, choosing instead to focus on one of the two possibilities.

“Do me a favour and stretch your hearing out in that direction,” she pointed to the first of the buildings and waited.

“Nothing,” he said and she nodded, moving to the next one and asking him to do the same for that building. When he didn’t answer, she moved the binoculars back and looked down at him. His expression was pinched and confused and she frowned, crouching down so she could get a closer look, not that it helped much, but putting herself closer to him made him turn his focus back onto her. “I don’t hear anything from that one,” he admitted and she cocked her head to the side.

“You don’t hear anything or you hear  nothing ?” she asked and he frowned again.

“That one,” he pointed to the first building. “I don’t hear anything from it, but the breeze is going through it, the windows are probably out... it’s empty. No life, no heartbeats, no nothing. That one,” he pointed to the second, expression once more turning troubled. “It’s like there’s a void there. I can hear the wind around it, blowing through the fields and grasses around it, the leaves on the ground, even the squeaking of the sign as it moves in the breeze, but the building... it’s as if it isn’t there at all.” She nodded and jumped back down to the ground, gesturing for him to get back into the car. “Is that it, then?” he asked. “That’s where they’re hiding out?” She turned the car around and headed back to Beacon Hills.

“The void you mentioned, is created by warding. There are certain protections that werewolves use to hide themselves when they’re on the run from hunters or other wolves... it looks like they’ve put those protections in place around that warehouse.”

“What if they haven’t though?” he asked. “I mean... we were down wind. I couldn’t smell anything from that direction at all...”

“Scott, that place was at least 1.5 miles, probably 2 miles away. Wind changes direction, you’d need to be within a few hundred yards to get a positive on anyone being there. But for now, let’s hypothesize. Say they aren’t there and they put the protection in place because they now know I’m in the area. What do you think they’d do now? Where would they hide?  Would they hide?”

“If they have an injured or down member like you said, they’d need cover. They’d need a place to lay low. And for all intents and purposes, that warehouse is outside Hale land so they can be there if they like...” She hummed her agreement, nodding her head at the same time.

“Good,” she gave him credit and he flushed, his lips curling upwards in a please smile before he turned to the window, blocking his face from her view.

“Where now?” he asked.

“Now, we go report back to your Alpha. Those protections take energy and time. They’re not going to waste that effort by leaving it empty when the ones they’re after are susceptible to the same weaknesses they have.”

“So it’s not a trap?” he asked after a minute, thinking over her words and she made a ‘so-so’ gesture with her hands.

“It’s certainly not safe for someone to walk in there alone,” she offered. “But the only trap is the physical trap those Alphas will provide. Which means, Scotty, we need a plan.”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“Good afternoon, Miss St-“ Parish snapped his mouth shut when Stiles walked up to him and held a hand up.

“Call me Red,” she said and he frowned, but nodded. “Right, for the foreseeable future, he,” she gestured to the door that her dad was stuck behind. “Is in potential danger. I’m going to have friends stopping by regularly, one will always be nearby. They’re not police, they’re actually kids, but they’re capable and even though you’re going to spit your pacifier out and argue the law at me, save it. Put these,” she held up a small black bag that rattled with the sound of metallic objects hitting one another. “In your piece and if you see anyone you don’t already know approach or try to enter this room and their eyes go a funny colour, shoot first, ask questions later. I’m giving you these because you’re his Deputy and you’re on watch. I’m trusting you to keep him alive in all ways that isn’t medical. Do you have any questions?”

“Is this a supernatural thing?” Parish asked quickly and she blinked.

That was essentially how Parish admitted knowing about the Supernatural world. Her dad was ecstatic when he found out.

“You’re doing it again,” her dad said when she perched herself on the edge of his bed after Parish had left the room. “You did it before you left the first time, and the second time, and the third time...”

“Did what, smartass?” she rolled her eyes, swatting his hand away when he went to poke her side.

“You have the same look,” he went on, shifting so he was more comfortable, so he had a better chance of reaching out to her. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asked and she picked at a frayed edge of the shirt sticking out from under her jacket. “Is it over then? You caught the big bad?”

“I’m not leaving yet,” she assured. “But I’m not coming back to this hospital unless I’m bleeding out and in the back of an ambulance.” He grimaced at the image but nodded, understanding her reasoning. “I can’t... I can’t be here anymore, Dad,” she sighed. “Derek’s going to keep me updated on you, gonna tell me when-” she cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and letting her dad reach out and pull her down to lay next to him on the bed, curling into his side. “I can’t watch you die like I watched her die,” she whispered and he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

“I don’t want you to watch me die, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I never wanted that - it’s why I never told you about any of it... the heart attack, the gunshot - I didn’t want you to come here and find out. I didn’t want that on you. Not again.” He sighed. “The hardest thing I ever did was letting you leave when you were 16. I know you didn’t trust me after your mom died... not like a daughter should trust a father, and it took me till you were just about to leave to realise why. I wasn’t there when you needed me, I never was. I was so caught up in my own grief I couldn’t see or help you with yours and when I heard your mom was-” his throat closed up and he choked on the words. “I never gave you an apology worth a damn for leaving you alone to deal with that and I can never hope to find the right words to give you one now... but letting you go when you were 16 was the only way I could ever hope to give you something back... to make up for the shitty father I’ve been...”

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as tightly as she dared, burying her face in his chest, eyes squeezed shut and face damp with tears. “You were a good dad,” she breathed. “It took me a while to understand you, but I know you only ever did what you thought you had to do - what you thought was right.” he snorted gently, smoothing down her hair.

“Where are you headed?” he asked fifteen minutes later when she’d finally forced herself to stand back up. She didn’t move far from the bed though, unwilling to leave just yet. 

“Gonna go check on a newborn I helped a few months back - his mom was being hunted, I helped secure their place in a pack in Nevada. Their Alpha requested I be there for the kid’s awakening.” At his confused expression, she explained. “It’s like a Christening, but not in a church, no water, no God... just the pack, the full moon and a blessing. It’s a symbolic ritual all pack cubs go through.”

“Isn’t it weird that you’re there if you’re not pack?” She shrugged.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she admitted. “I think in the few that I’ve done, my magic has afforded the blessing added power, giving the cub more protection. Anyway,” she cleared her throat. “After that... I don’t know. I’ll probably go check on a hunter friend of mine, make sure he’s okay.” Her mind went back to Joe and she sighed.

“Well, just keep in touch, okay? Text me when you’re heading out of town.” He pulled her down for one last hug and she smiled into his shoulder.

“Promise.”

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Erica and Boyd were her braun. 

The rest of the pack (who could realistically help, which meant Allison, Danny and Lydia were volunteered for hospital duty) were spaced out as they approached the warehouse. The closer they got, the more Stiles could sense. She couldn’t trust her scar or her tattoos, but she trusted her senses and they far outweighed the protections the Alphas had put in place around the warehouse. She could tell they were inside, but couldn’t tell anyone where they were exactly.

When they reached the perimeter of the warehouse compound, she paused and crouched down, resting her hand flat on the ground. She pushed a pulse of magic out and felt it feed back to her in stages as it moved through the concrete. Eyes closed, she got a basic read on what was inside and frowned when all she could see were two life forces - one werewolf, one being so clouded by magics both natural and foreign it was amazing that the host still held a heartbeat. 

“The Rabid,” she breathed., cocking her head to the side. “It’s inside,” her voice was low but she knew the pack could hear her. She pulled her magic back, closer to the surface this time and found not only the protection line but four more life forces belonging to werewolves. “The entire pack is here,” she rose slowly, the residual magic coming back to her arching like electricity and making the tips of her fingers tingle. “i’m going to break the line,” she went on. “They’re either going to bait or attack fast and hard. Be prepared.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, the protection line broke under the weight of her magic.

She heard Erica and Boyd stumble back as they both inhaled and a quick glance to her left and told her that Scott, who had been stood roughly 50 yards away with Isaac, had dropped to one knee, hands at his head and head turning back and forth quickly as if he was trying to clear it of cobwebs. A look to her right told her Derek was still standing, but he too was shaking his head.

As for Stiles, her tattoos were at a constant hum.

The designs were such that each protection rune she had was hidden by everything else. She had layers and layers of protections runes and wards that she was probably the most protected hunter on the face of the planet, but those protections meant nothing if a pissed off Alpha was charging at her with claws out and canines bared.

It was show time.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Ethan and Aiden probably surprised Stiles the most by literally joining together to form that big stupid hunk of muscle and  Alpha . They were trained, but she’d been at this for a long, long time. Peter and Kali were stood by the door and Stiles noticed Derek’s pack moving towards her location when they realised the only point of entry was the one the Alphas were physically guarding.

“You made a mistake coming here, Derek,” Peter said easily and Derek growled. “Allying yourself with a  hunter ,” he clucked his tongue. “Especially after what happened last time? You really are just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” he was smiling though, almost amused. “Let’s see the almighty Alpha Hale in action then... see if you’re worthy of the title you stole from me.”

“I’d love to,” Derek gestured to Scott and Isaac, who joined him in stepping forward. As a group, they advanced on the Ethan/Aiden behemoth and roared.

Stiles kept her eyes on Kali and Peter throughout the entire fight. 

When Scott jumped on the thing’s back, his claws digging into it’s neck before he kicked himself away, clawing  gills into it, Kali flinched but Peter looked nonplussed. When Scott was thrown into the metal fencing - particularly the barbed wire section, she smiled and Peter rolled his eyes as if the move had been pointless, which it had, because Scott visibly healed in seconds. Isaac clawed a cross into the thing’s chest and was repaid by being tossed at Scott - another wasted move as they both helped each other up and attacked together.

When Isaac and Scott were grounded, hands at their throats pinning them to the concrete -  that was when Peter took note. Derek moved quickly and silently and the sickening  crunch  that echoed across the otherwise silent compound made her stomach turn and made Peter’s eyes light up and shine with intrigue. Kali gave a shout of anguish that made a bitter, righteous smile twist at Stiles’ lips. The Alpha didn’t deserve to care about anyone, she didn’t deserve to have anyone care about her.

Stiles heard a wet tearing noise and only realised that Derek had actually torn the head clean off the behemoth when two heads rolled across the ground towards Kali and Peter. Seconds later, Derek was stood beside her, practically vibrating with the power that must’ve transferred with the kill. 

She didn’t do anything to encourage touching but when he reached forward, resting a tense hand on her shoulder, she didn’t shrug him away.

That was something else Peter’s eyes lit up at seeing.

The combination of Erica and Jackson wasn’t actually enough to hold down Kali and as much as Stiles wanted to step in and kill the bitch for her crimes, the hand still resting on her shoulder reminded her that the pack had to take care of this part alone at the very least. Boyd launched himself into the fray with a roar that echoed, his claws swiping down in a huge arch, moving left to right and tearing across Kali’s back. The Alpha didn’t die - they were made of sterner stuff - but the attack did a number on her spine and she fell to her knees, her pained screams piercing and close to painful even for Stiles.

“You can take it,” she said gently and Derek’s hand tensed up again. “Trust me.”

“I do,” he murmured, moving so he was flush against her back for a second before stalking away and taking care of Kali, who was trying to glare holes through Stiles’ hood.

“Seems we have ourselves a bit of a standoff, Little Red,” Peter said with a leering smile as the pack returned to flank her. “You have my darling nephew by the balls... just like the last one,” he sneered and behind her, Derek tensed.

“I take great offense to being compared to Kate Argent,” Stiles said, taking a step forward, and then another, and another... until she was walking slowly but with purpose towards the leader of the depleted Alpha Pack. “I’m far prettier,” she stopped when there was barely three metres between them and he tipped his head back, considering before his eyes flickered back to Derek.

“The pack is strong, nephew,” he said, almost complimenting and Derek responded with a low growl. “Tell me,” he turned back to Stiles. “Why  did you come here? Why take this hunt?”

“I was in the area,” she drawled. “How did you manipulate the rabid’s lunar cycle?”

“You’re a smart girl, Red,” he chuckled. “You mean to tell me you haven’t figured it out yet?”

“If I had,” she pointed out. “I wouldn’t need to ask, would I?” He just clucked his tongue, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in her efforts.

“I’d like to tell you it was some elaborate ritual... or some highly technical new age science experiment gone awry, or the power of an alpha,” he chuckled, shoulders shrugging once; up, then down. Stiles frowned.

“Why target human members of packs?” she moved on, mind still racing.

“Because they are simply inferior,” Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, that wasn’t even an effort! Ask me something juicy, you know you want to,” he rubbed his hands together like an eager child about to get something sweet.

“How did it feel,” Derek spoke up for the first time and Stiles felt him standing just to her right, less than an arms length away. “When Aunt Fran died?” he finished and Peter’s smile disappeared. “How did it feel when your sister died? Your brother? Your nieces and nephews? How did it feel,  uncle ,” he spat the word out. “When your newborn child was killed in the fire?”

“How did it feel to be responsible?!” Peter snarled, eyes glowing bright red, flashing with anger and hatred and no little amount of madness.

“That’s my cross to bare,” Derek admitted. “I blame myself for it everyday, but I was a child and I was used. You were an adult when you killed my sister - your niece. For what? Her power?” he sneered. “You’re pathetic, and you should’ve stayed dead and buried where I left you.” With a roar louder than Boyd’s, Derek flung himself at his Uncle and Stiles was grabbed by both arms before being pulled back, away from the carnage.

The fight wasn’t a long one but it gave her time to think.

As she watched Peter claw the skin from Derek’s arm almost completely, leaving his bloodied muscle exposed, she thought about his words.  Ritual. Science. Alpha... Individually, the elements wouldn’t be enough to inhibit a Rabid. They’d be enough to inhibit a regular werewolf, but Rabid’s were more temperamental, their magic more chaotic. Nothing had reason, nothing had order.

As Derek retaliated by nearly scalping his uncle, tearing almost half the other wolf’s hair from the back of his head and quickly swiping at his back, narrowly missing Peter’s spine, she thought about combinations. Logically, using all three would work, but it would be overkill. Those kinds of magics are protected amongst the few hunting families privy to their existence. There’s no chance in  hell that one of them gave the information up to a wolf willingly, let alone a Hale. Attitudes were such, at one point, that the name Hale and its reputation for peace was met with scorn and though they kept to the code, whatever code they had, very few hunters gave an inch when dealing with the Hales.

When Boyd jumped in to strike at Peter and was subsequently thrown back into Isaac and Erica, Stiles thought about the other two - Science and the power of an Alpha. Science could be anything - there were minerals and elements naturally occurring in the world that could be used against werewolves - both rabid and regular, but very few are publicly known. Stiles herself only knew of a handful, the most obvious being Mountain Ash. That couldn’t inhibit the change, only injure the magic of the wolf. Rabid’s were also susceptible to silver though. She was 99.9% sure, however, that any werewolf, rabid or regular weren’t able to handle Mountain Ash, so unless they had a human shacked up, they weren’t using the Mountain Ash.

Scott and Jackson jumped forward next as Derek got his jaws clamped down on Peter’s shoulder and something in Stiles’ mind clicked.

“Hold him,” she said and the pack did as requested, holding Peter Hale still with claws and/or jaws. “Moonstone,” she tried and was rewarded when Peter’s eyes widened. “Okay,” she took a few steps back, nodding at Derek, who had both hands now firmly wrapped around Peter’s head.

“One question!” Peter ground out through gritted teeth and Stiles waited, head cocked to the side. “Why are you here? Really? They wouldn’t have been able to get themselves into any real order if you hadn’t been here to push them, so what brought you to Beacon Hills, Red? What brought you to Derek?” 

And because Stiles was feeling magnanimous, she smiled and pulled down her hood, revealing her face. “My name is Stiles,” she admitted and though she saw the tiniest glimmers of recognition in his eyes, she continued. “The Sheriff is my father.” The recognition spiked, but so did realisation as his expression turned ashen, the knowledge that he’d brought Little Red down on his stolen pack. His reactions confused her a little but she continued to smile despite that as she put her hood back up, going back to thinking things through.

Her mind raced as she tried to figure out the likelihood of the pent up magic within the Rabid eating through the magic of the sedative. 

“Derek,” Peter breathed and Derek paused. “You truly are Talia’s son,” he was laughing, though Stiles didn’t think it was a malicious laugh, and would later admit that there may have been a hint of  pride in there somewhere.

Unable to say anything in return, Derek’s face was set in stone as he did to Peter what he did to the twins/behemoth - tearing his head off with a guttural roar. “There’s one more left,” she said when everything went quiet, Peter’s final words shoved to the back of all their minds.

“And the rabid,” Erica breathed. The entire pack looked like it was getting a backlash from the power Derek was taking in from each kill and, Stiles supposed, they were. They’d no doubt ride this high for a while and neighbouring packs or packs looking to encroach on the Hale territory would think twice before trying anything. She’d seen the effect before, though admittedly, no one pack had taken down an entire alpha pack before and it was a testament to how well the Hale pack worked together. They were still young and there were flaws, but then it came to protecting their own and their town, she could see how well they worked. 

It was naive to think Peter had a point by saying she’d somehow managed to bring them together, make the pack a more cohesive unit, but comparing them now to the first time she’d met them all as a group, they  were a little more relaxed in themselves. Stiles though, used to erring on the side of caution to get herself through life, was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She hadn’t lifted a finger, but taking down the twins, Kali  and Peter had been... almost  too easy. It was as if Peter set them up to fall. The twins, though their advantage had been great, couldn’t multitask enough to get rid of Boyd  and Scott and  certainly couldn’t react fast enough to keep Derek from taking off their (combined) head. Kali hadn’t been much different. Peter’s fight with the pack was something more, but still, no where near what an Alpha should be - especially the alpha of an alpha pack.

Pushing the thought to the back of her mind for the moment, she and the pack advanced into the warehouse, herself and Derek taking point.

She followed his silent direction as they walked, stopping for a split second when she heard the distant rumbling growl of the last remaining alpha reverberating through the winding corridors of the warehouse. Her heart jumped a beat and she could feel her magic pooling, dancing just beneath the surface. Her fingers twitched, sparks arcing between them until she eventually clenched each hand into a fist to stop it from expelling itself.

A hand dropped to the back of her neck and squeezed through the fabric of her hood -  Derek -  making her breath hitch. She paused with the pack a few metres away from a set of double doors that, after a cursory inspection from her, didn’t reveal anything other than metal elements; aluminium, steel, etc. Her hand twitched, fist uncurling and she felt a tiny portion of her magic being released, forcing the doors inwards (when they opened outwards), ensuring they wouldn’t be trapped inside at the very least.

When the door was gone, Stiles saw the last remaining alpha, not protecting, but  flanking a very awake, very upright young girl.  The Rabid , Stiles’ mind supplied. 

The girl seemed alert, aware and, by the narrowing of her eyes and the knowing expression on her face, she seemed... in charge was the only logical way Stiles could word it.

This... this was something Stiles had  not expected.

“You killed my pack,” the girl spoke, her voice light with fatigue but the weight of her words bore down on the entire pack, Stiles included.

Her eyes narrowed and she reached out with her senses, trying to get a read on the girl. She saw the rabid beneath the surface, the sedative still heavy in her system... her mind however...

When Stiles tried to get a read on the girl’s mind, it made her gasp - she didn’t have a hope in hell of holding it in either. What she sensed - she’d never sensed anything like it. The mind, it was gone. The physical structure was there; the brain tissue, synapses, electrical activity, but the  essence of the self, the consciousness, it wasn’t there. And if it was, it was so broken, so beyond healing, there’s no way the girl should be stood up and talking to them.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked, hands twitching, fingers sparking, the sound of crackling electricity filling the air as she worked herself up. The girl cocked her head to the side, seemingly intrigued.

“You’re Little Red,” she actually smiled. “Tales of your prowess haven’t exaggerated, I’m impressed,” she chuckled. “I’m seldom impressed, my dear.” 

The alpha flanking the girl flinched silently, but remained resolved in his stance, looking like he would die to protect her.

“What brought you here?” the girl asked.

“You didn’t hear?” Stiles smiled.

“The building is insulated,” she shrugged. A very ‘what can you do?’ kind of gesture that set Stiles’ teeth on edge. “Not even my  father ,” she gestured to the alpha. “Could hear.”

“Oh honey,” Stiles smiled, tipping back her hood and revealing her face. “That alpha’s daughter has been gone for a long, long time.” The alpha growled, eyes glowing and teeth lengthening. The girl’s expression turned annoyed for a split second before it was back to amused.

“I’m quite sure I have no idea-”

“Don’t bullshit me,  demon ,” Stiles sent out a tendril of magic; one she’d practised for years when she started hunting and the ground beneath the girls feet burned deep and scorched bright orange before fading to black, revealing a perfect devil’s trap beneath her feet. The girl’s eyes widened as she stared down at the ground. “Was she already dead when you took the host? The soul went but the body was alive... you had to be quick,” Stiles mused. “The window isn’t long, a few seconds with physical trauma...”

“What are you-” the Alpha began but the girl spun around to face him.

“Don’t listen to her!” she snapped and Stiles took the opportunity to look around, spying a large cage in the far corner and studying it. “She’s trying to turn you against me! I’m your  daughter!”

“So you were in that thing... what? The whole year? You think you’d be able to... I don’t know, lock yourself away, carefully time your attacks on different packs across the country and either no one would connect the dots or, if someone did, they’d figure it’d be just another demon on a timer?” The girl spun around, her expression hard now and Stiles could tell the demon in her was trying  desperately to keep up the facade. Stiles’ lips curled into something of a grimace as she spat out her next word. “ Christo, ” she murmured and the demon snarled, eyes bleeding black, the release of energy triggering the rabid’s innate magic. “Could’ve avoided this,” she drawled, taking two steps forward. “Death, destruction...  exposure . You know, I wouldn’t have even heard of this had you not attacked my family.”

The demon’s eyes narrowed and the Alpha was looking - Stiles wasn’t sure hopeless was the right word, but something close to it at the very least.

“Family.” The demon’s tone was derisive. “You’ve been hunting for years, any family you had-”

“Watch what you say now, sweetheart,” Stiles smiled. “The rightful owner of that body is long gone and I have no qualms about tearing it apart now I know that.” The demon seethed and even as Stiles got closer, the Alpha didn’t move. “Why here?” Stiles said. “Why Beacon Hills? Why the Hale pack?”

“Peter,” the girl snarled. “Wanted to come back to his hometown and test the worth of his wayward nephew,” she sneered. “Figures he’d be the one to orchestrate  you being here and screwing up this operation.” Stiles waited for her to elaborate and luckily, didn’t have to wait long. “I don’t know how he managed to get you here, he was never fully on board with our mission either way-”

“Killing pack humans?” Derek growled and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Human souls are worth a million times more to us than the pitiful split souls of werewolves,” she huffed. “Attacking pack humans made excusing the actions easier.” She was so unfeeling, her tone lacking in any semblance of a conscience that even the Alpha stood behind her was shocked, his eyes widening as he stared at her.

“So you don’t have a vendetta against pack humans...” Scott frowned and the rabid snorted.

“If you’re stupid enough to get involved with the supernatural, you  deserve to be culled.”

“And that’s why Peter brought you here,” Derek said finally, saying Peter’s name with something other than the hatred one might have expected. Stiles tipped her head, not taking her eyes off the demon/rabid and she could tell the entire group was waiting for an explanation. “Peter’s mate before the fire was human, one of his two children had been born human and my baby sister was also human. He neither hated humans nor did he want them dead...” Derek took a deep breath, realisation rocking him. “He brought you here because he trusted  my pack to be the one to take you all down.” Stiles didn’t have to turn around to know that Derek had a look of intense guilt on his face but when she felt the pack closing ranks around him, offering him comfort, she was pleased. It was unspoken, the fact that that probably meant Peter had known exactly who Stiles was, had known what would bring her back to Beacon Hills to help in the fight... It was a stroke of exaggerated genius if you thought about it, really.

Before any of them could react, the last remaining Alpha of the Alpha pack stepped forward and into the confines of the Devil’s Trap, his hands coming up to wrap around the neck of the girl. His eyes were hard but he was crying, as if what he was doing had been the hardest decision of his life.

Stiles was sympathetic; he’d lost his daughter years ago but had never realised it. The demon had taken over and had manipulated everyone around her.

“ Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus...” Stiles began and the demon started screaming, bucking against the hold of the alpha, spitting out curses towards the pack and Stiles until it all became white noise.

When the demon had been exorcised and shipped back to hell where it belonged, the body of the girl dropped, her father’s hands going slack, the girl’s neck having broken almost as soon as he’d grabbed a hold of her, not counting the countless other wounds the poor body had suffered while under the demon’s control. A look at the body with her senses showed zero activity and for all it hurt Stiles to admit it, it broke her heart to see a child in that state, even one as dangerous as a rabid.

The silence in the aftermath echoed louder than anything Stiles had heard in a long, long time and as the pack watched the lone Alpha kneeling beside the body of his long dead daughter, Stiles considered her options.

“What do you want?” she asked finally and the Alpha’s shoulders shook, with shock or laughter - Stiles had no idea until he opened his mouth.

“She had me fooled for so long,” he rasped, hysteria in his voice.

“She wasn’t your daughter.” Stiles crouched down so she was at eye level. “Your daughter died a long time ago, the demon didn’t care about you. It used you to get to the pack. Maybe even helped initiate-”

“Just kill me,” the Alpha sighed, interrupting her. 

“I’m not a supporter of assisted suicide,” she said and his eyes glowed red. His lips parting, teeth baring themselves was the only warning she had before he launched himself at her. Claws out, arms raised, he swiped down from left to right across her body and it was only the combination of her own reflexes and Derek’s as he helped pull her back that saved her.

“KILL ME!” The alpha roared as Stiles got her footing back.

“No,” she said, throwing her hand out, pushing a wave of energy at him to knock his second approach off track and throw him back towards the body of his long dead daughter.

“You better kill me!” he snarled, spinning until he was crouched over the body, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I’ll keep coming at you if you don’t! I’ll go for your father! Your pack! I’ll kill them all!” he launched again and stopped in mid-air, frozen in place. Stiles’ had both hands raised and the force of his power - of his rage was making it difficult for her to maintain the hold so much that her arms were shaking.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she ground out and he snarled at her, eyes wild.

“I’ll kill you,” he vowed. “I’ll kill your friends, your family... I’ll do it! And then I’ll dance on your graves!” he was beyond reason and not for the first time, Stiles found herself hating demons. She’d never met a good one. No one would convince her any good, reasonable demon existed - she’d seen this kind of fall out from a demon possession before and it broke her heart to see what was probably once a proud father, a proud man... reduced to this feral mess.

But she wouldn’t kill him.

“I’ll tell the world about us,” he said suddenly and she started, eyes widening. “About wolves... I’ll tell them where each and every pack I’ve ever encountered is based, I’ll tell them how to kill every single wolf in America and it’ll spread across the damn world!” He licked his lips and gave a sneering laugh. “And I’ll tell them to start here.”

“Derek no!” she shouted, dropping the hold she’d had on the alpha and watching him fall towards the blur that was Derek Hale. The alpha dropped and Derek was on him, claws flying, gauging, slashing, slicing until all the alpha was, was exposed blood, bone and sinew.

Stiles stumbled back, pulling her arm out of a hand that had steadied her. She backed away from the sight of Derek kneeling over the body of the alpha and he stared at her, his eyes glowing, breathing heavily as the new power rushed through his already amped up system.

“Stiles,” he growled out and she flinched, not that he could see her face but he caught the movement of her shoulders and his expression shuttered. “Stiles-” he made to stand up but stopped when he saw her hands twitch.

“Don’t,” she ground out, still backing away. Her eyes ran over the pack as they watched her retreat. Their faces held confusion, questions... Scott looked pained but he didn’t try follow. “Just don’t,” she said to all of them as she reached the door. Once she passed the threshold, she turned around and ran, her magic forcing the darkness of the corridor to swallow her up completely. She didn’t stop running when she heard the anguished howls of the pack, nor did she stop when she felt them start to run after her. No... she only stopped when she reached her car, parked half a mile from the building.

Then she drove.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

It had been six hours before anyone tried to text her. First Scott, then Melissa, then Isaac and finally Derek. After two weeks, Derek was the only one texting her, though he’d stopped apologising and asking her to come back so he could explain a week in, instead choosing to keep her updated on her dad. A month in and her dad was back on full duty, and then a month later, he was back on desk duty as his cancer progressed. Derek told her chemo was no longer an option, the cancer had grown too aggressive too quickly.

Stiles took out her frustrations on a pack of vampires in Detroit, a hunter called Frank at her side. Frank lost an arm and Stiles lost a lot of blood but they both survived and the vampires were gone.

Derek sent her pictures of her dad, Scott and Melissa together, the pack training, the pack together on a movie night, her dad eating salad, holding a sign saying ‘meat free zone’. He never sent a picture of himself or with himself in it, she didn’t really know why, didn’t want to over think it, she was still pissed at him for everything and she had every right to be - he killed someone in cold blood. Not even self-defence! Race defence, if anything at all, but it was still cold blood. The other alpha had been grieving!

For every irrational thought about Derek, she had a rational one - a rational reason for his actions and it made her ache inside just thinking about it, thinking about how protective of his pack he was, about how much he took on to keep them and everyone around them safe... she knew he was a good guy, she’d always known that. Hell, she’d even let herself care about him even before he admitted to caring about her. For all she wanted to go back to Beacon Hills and give whatever potential thing they might have a shot, to be with her dad during his last months, she couldn’t... it was too hard for her to fathom. She’d watched her mom slowly waste away to nothing, she couldn’t live with watching her dad too.

At month four, the pictures stopped and Stiles was thankful, her dad had started to look frail, older than his years. Derek had admitted that the Sheriff had requested no more pictures be sent onto her for that very reason, so Derek just sent text updates about how the day’s been, what happened with the pack, what happened during the large family dinner, the restoration of the old Hale house and how it’s progressing... and every so often he mentioned the latest supernatural or hunter threat. Supernatural they could take care of easily, hunter... had been a little trickier. That was until Alison had stepped up and used Stiles’ name  Little Red to scare the bloodthirsty hunters into leaving. It took a while to get them to believe her but once they did, they ran, though not before putting arrows through Scott and Isaac.

Stiles caught up with the hunters in Mexico City a week later and they spent an hour apologising and pleading for mercy before she just broke their legs and left them in an alley. They survived evidently and word spread because the next time she visited the Greenway, a dive bar off I-95 heading through Maryland frequented by hunters 98% of the time and she was given a few strange looks until a group of newbies surrounded where she was propping up the bar and accused her of turning dark side.

The entire bar went silent.

By the time she left no one questioned why she’d done what she’d done.

And no one was making any plans to visit Beacon Hills at any point in the near future.

Two weeks later her dad was officially out of his job. Parish was Acting Sheriff until the next election - the county was putting it off until the inevitable out of respect, at least that was the gist she got from Derek’s texts. He was still active around the house in small bursts, slept a lot more, relaxed out in the garden now it was summer. His health insurance from work was covering all the medical bills, even after he’d left the job. The county was being strangely giving in the face of all his years on the job. It would have been suspect to Stiles, but Derek made a point of letting her know without prompting that they’d legally checked everything out to make sure there wouldn't be any unwelcome surprises.

It was sweet really.

In the months since she’d left, she’d never responded - never wanted to initiate conversation. She didn’t want to get caught up in something she might not be able to step back from when she needed to. To be honest, the fact that he’d kept in touch even one-way meant a lot to her and more than once she’d typed out messages and replies to his texts... and more than once she’d typed out messages without any prompting. She’d always deleted them though.

At five months she started getting worried when she hadn’t heard anything from Derek for five days in a row but she was closing in on a hunt so couldn’t do anything about it until the damn demon had been exorcised. Though, last she’d heard her dad had been restricted to the sofa, bed, dining table and bathroom, and the latter only with assistance (for showers only), so she knew he was declining quickly.

The demon on a one way trip to the fire and brimstone from whence it came and the teenage boy it had been possessing safely dropped off at the nearest ER, Stiles returned to her motel room for a much needed shower and sleep.

That had been her plan anyway.

“Stiles.”

And then her world came crashing to a very abrupt halt.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Boyd drove back the Camaro while Derek took shotgun with Stiles from Flagstaff. The beta left with a nod to Stiles and a small smile; Stiles nodded back but didn’t feel up to smiling, so didn’t. Instead, she just walked into her room and started stripping.

“Stiles, we need-” Derek stepped in behind her and quickly closed the door, eyes widening as she pulled off her top and kicked off her boots, her jacket and weapons already in a pile on the bed.

“I’m covered in demon smoke and the blood of a teenage boy, I’m fucking showering,” she said with a hard edge to her voice and thankfully, Derek didn’t argue. “Do me a favour, make sure all my shit is collected and put in the bag,” she kicked a large duffel into view and made for the bathroom buck naked, uncaring with fresh clothes and a towel in hand. It didn’t hit her that she’d done what she’d done with him watching until she was rinsing her hair of shampoo, and she froze for almost a full minute, shaking herself out of the haze when his concerned voice came through the door asking if she was okay. She shut off the shower and stepped out, saying she was fine.

Ten minutes later they were heading out of the reception area after having handed the keys for the room back to the guy on the front desk, who hit on her using the exact same line he’d used when she’d checked  in , only this time, she broke his nose.

“You haven’t texted in almost a week,” she said when they hit Route 66 and she heard him sigh.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want an apology, Derek!” she snapped. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

“No, I don’t, because you never text back letting me know you got any of the thousands of texts I sent you!” he snapped right back and her hands tightened on the wheel.

“You stopped texting just  after getting done telling me the doctors were recommending an overnight at the hospital! How the fuck do I not worry after  that ?” They were barely two minutes into their drive and she was ready to kill him.

“I never knew if you got the messages, Stiles,” he repeated, a little calmer this time. “I never know! I don’t get delivery reports, I don’t know if you change your number for work, if your phone is smashed in a hunt- I don’t know! I’m texting you blind, hoping  something is coming through and I get  nothing from you. Nothing at all! How the hell am I supposed to gauge how you’d feel if I take a few days off of my busy texting schedule to actually go out and find your ass?! Do you actually know how  big this country is?”

“Oh grow the fuck up,” she rolled her eyes. “You could have asked me outright on the phone - I don’t care if you didn’t know or not. Best way to see is to ring the damn thing!”

“And you’d have answered? After running away from me the last time we saw each other?” he snorted and her grip tightened again.

“You killed someone in cold blood, I wasn’t going to stay around for a kiss and a fucking cuddle,” she snarled and he shut up.

Five hours later she pulled over at a rest stop and grabbed a few things to eat on the road before tossing him the keys and sliding into the back seat of her car.

“How’d you get the scar down your back, ass and thigh?” he asked twenty minutes in and she flinched but the engine was so loud she didn’t think he’d hear the sharp intake of her breath.

“Wendigo claw,” she answered eventually. “It’ll teach me not to go bathing in a woodland stream.” Derek growled and she raised an eyebrow at the back of his head. He made a show of glancing back at her and she saw his eyes flashing red. “Don’t get all bent out of shape, Cujo, it’s dead as dead and it’s ass is in Purgatory as we speak.”

“And the new scar on your shoulder?”

“Vampire nest,” she answered curtly.

“Crooked pinky finger?”

“Trapped it in a car door!” her tone was growing more and more irritated with every question. “Shut up and drive,” she snapped finally. “I’m a hunter. I hunt bad things. If you weren’t so damn important to my dad I’d probably hunt you after the stunt you pulled with the alpha so don’t you dare start judging  me on my work.”

“You got a grand total of 12 new scars, that I could only account for from the view I had, probably more that I don’t know about since you left home and you want me to  not say anything? Are you crazy? Or just an idiot?”

“Do you want to walk back to your territory? We’re about to pass through Rosen land, I bet they’d  love to hear from a lone alpha!” she snarled and turned away from him, curling up and squeezing her eyes shut.

“I’m just concerned,” he sighed. 

“Be concerned about something that needs it. Like say, proving to me you’re a fit alpha instead of a cold blooded killer.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” he growled by way of replying and she snorted. “I killed that alpha because he was a threat.”

“He was grieving! He’d just lost his daughter - his one and only reason for fucking being! You, of all people, of all  werewolves , should understand what that feels like!” she twisted until she was sat up and staring at the side of his head.

“I didn’t go on a murdering rampage across the United States!” he shot back and she snorted.

“No, you just turned a bunch of adolescent brats into wolves at the height of puberty. Way to go there, Lassie,” she rolled her eyes. “Good job. Good alpha skills you got going there.”

“He was a threat, he said it himself! He would tell people-”

“He wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I could hear his heart beat, Stiles!” he shouted. “He wasn’t lying when he told you to kill him! He wasn’t lying when he promised he’d bring ten tons of hell down on our shoulders! He was hurt, upset, grieving, but he wasn’t lying! Not one word!” She glared at his head for a few seconds before going back to her previous position curled up on the back seat. She didn’t speak again but neither could she sleep so she scrolled through her phone and all the pictures Derek had sent her.

She had the one of her dad and Melissa as her homescreen background.

They drove for another four hours before they had to pull over for gas and Stiles decided to take over, considerably bored with pretending to sleep and just winding herself up more and more so she figured having something to occupy her time would be better.

“You know you overreacted by leaving how you did, right?” Derek asked from the passenger seat but she didn’t acknowledge him. “For someone as well versed in the supernatural as you are, it was an overreaction. You weren’t scared of me, or of what I’d done... you were looking for an excuse to leave and you took the easiest road-”

“Fuck you and your huge fucking ego,” she sneered without taking her eyes off the road. “You didn’t scare me, you  don’t scare me. The fact that I’d been considering a  relationship with someone who could so easily do something like that without a second’s thought?  That scared me.  That made me think twice and realise oh, the psychotic alpha wolf might not be the right fit for me. I don’t want babies with this one, he’s too impulsive, likes to settle disputes with claws and teeth rather than words and fucking therapy!” 

“You said you wouldn’t consider-”

“I said I couldn’t be what you needed, and I didn’t lie. That didn’t stop me  thinking about it though! You made damn sure of that didn’t you? It didn’t stop me  considering my options!” She pressed down on the gas and the car sped up as she overtook a few slower pick-ups in the inside lane.

“We’re never going to agree on whether or not you believe what I did was the right call or not, you couldn’t see or hear what I did and I can’t see things from your perspective because I didn’t only have myself to think about. I had my pack to consider, the town I live in, it’s people,  your father! I had all those people to protect and consider and I had a split second to make that decision and it was  hard , okay? I didn’t do it lightly. I’m a  predator , that doesn’t mean I have to be a killer but I  chose to kill to protect my home. I chose to eliminate a threat to protect the people of Beacon Hills. You can either live with it or not, I don’t care anymore.”

“Bullshit you don’t care,” she snorted, fingers flexing against the wheel and for the next 30 minutes, the car was silent until finally, she opened her mouth and licked her lips, preparing to talk. “Believe it or not, I do understand why you did what you did, I just don’t like it. I have my code, you have yours. I’ve been telling myself for months and I didn’t get it, that he could’ve been saved but that was mostly me being pissed at you for taking what was my decision away from me. I’m a hunter, I’m Little fucking Red, you don’t take shit away from me unless I give you permission and you just waltzed in and stole that choice from me like you had the God given right to do so - Which!” she said with emphasis when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “You both had and didn’t have. It was your territory, you’re the alpha, I  get that. But I was born there too. It’s  my home town, he’s  my father and I should have had the final say in what happened. You took that away from me and yes, I understand, but no, I’m not gonna take it lightly.”

“So it’s been a pissing contest? This entire thing? Your silence? The way you left? You’ve been pouting?” he sounded severely unimpressed and she hit him as hard as she could in the arm.

“Screw you, Cujo,” she snapped. “You killed a grieving father whose whole world had just crashed down on him - his pack was taken from him, his daughter gone... and you just killed him. Suicide by wolf,” she sneered again. “Ironic.”

“What are you going to do after...” he trailed off after attempting to speak two silent hours later and she rolled her eyes.

“After my dad dies?” he flinched but she didn’t acknowledge it. “What am I going to do in general or am I going to stay in Beacon Hills and play fucking house?” 

“Forget I asked,” he huffed.

“I have his estate to sort out,” she finally continued, her tone gentler this time and she heard him shifting. “Melissa is his wife, I know that, but there’s some things she can’t sort out. It’s a family thing.”

“She’s his family, Stiles,” Derek sighed.

“Not like this.”

“In the eyes of the law-”

“In the eyes of my mother’s  will , she has no fucking claim now if you’ve quite finished trying to piss me off as much as possible, kindly shut the fuck up for the rest of the trip. And if you can’t manage it, call Boyd and tell him to pull over at the next hard shoulder. We’ll catch him up in half an hour and you can get back in your Camaro.”

He shut up.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

“Well aren’t you the prettiest picture there ever was?” she drawled, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the door frame of her dad’s bedroom. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her.

“Hey there, Red,” he sounded terrible and she barely held in her wince, but she held her nerve and pushed away from the frame, walking over to perch on the side of the bed, taking his hand in her own. “You’re here,” he sighed out, sounding happy and she nodded, smiling her own watery smile right back.

“Kinda hard to say no to an alpha that just won’t quit,” she snorted. “Besides, I needed a break. Last few months have been rough.” Her grimace only came through when he patted her hand with his free one.

“You’ve been running from your problems into the supernatural,” he deduced and yeah, she had been, but he wasn’t supposed to know that.

“My problems  are the supernatural,” she rolled her eyes and his smile turned soft.

“You know he cares about you, right?”

“I am not talking about Derek with you, Dad,” she huffed but his grip on her hand tightened briefly.

“He cared enough to keep you updated on my progress,” he said. “He cared enough to work with you when you were last here... he cared enough to bring you down from a panic attack. He  cares , Stiles.” She glared but didn’t speak. “You think I want to be sat here telling my only daughter to go get laid?” Stiles grimaced and her dad coughed through a laugh. “I want you happy, I think he could make you happy.”

“You think too much,” she pointed out and he shrugged. “Look,” she sighed. “I can’t... I don’t  want what he wants. I can’t be what he needs me to be-”

“He doesn’t need you to be anything other than what you are,” her dad pressed.

“I can’t believe you’re sat here trying to get me to  go steady with the local alpha werewolf.” She ran her free hand over her face, suddenly very tired. “Have you ever thought about what  I want?” she asked. “I might not want him, I might not want to be with a werewolf, Dad. I’m a hunter, I hunt supernatural creatures... I’ve killed a lot of wolves in the last ten years dad, what makes you think I want to spend the rest of my damn life with one? With a pack of them!” 

“Because you didn’t tell me to get lost when I brought it up.”

“I don’t care what he’s been filling your head with,” she stood up and tugged her hand free, leaning down to kiss his cheek before stepping back and straightening her jacket. “Whatever I decide to do, it’ll be on me, not you, not Derek,  me . Now I’m going back to mine... I’ll be by tomorrow, okay?” He was smiling like he knew something she didn’t and that had always annoyed her but it wasn’t like she could tell him to stop so she just huffed and walked away.

“Hey,” Melissa was stood by the kitchen door as Stiles stepped off the last step.

“I’m going home,” she said after nodding her hello. “I’ll be back tomorrow at some point. When do you start your shift?”

“10,” Melissa answered, a small frown working its way onto her brow. “But Scott’s here, the pack filter in and out all day, he’s never alone in the house.”

“I’ll come by for lunch then,” Stiles decided and Melissa was still frowning. “If you’re gonna start on at me about Derek too-”

“No, nothing like that,” Melissa assured and Stiles didn’t quite believe her but nodded.

“Then why the long face?”

“Besides the obvious?” Melissa sighed. Stiles was suddenly aware of the potential emotional outpour the current situation could bring out and she figured that it would take maybe three seconds to get to the front door but then Melissa started talking again. “How are you so calm right now?” the woman asked.

“What makes you think I’m calm?” Stiles answered with a sigh and Melissa just stared. “This isn’t the first parent I’ve lost to long-term illness. I just skipped the heavy lifting this time around.”

“Don’t talk about your father that way,” Melissa glared and Stiles  knew ... she  knew that had the woman had less restraint, Stiles would be sporting a hand shaped red mark on her cheek right then. In theory anyway.

“He’s my dad, I can talk about him how I like. I’ll handle this situation however I like and I’ll  grieve however I like.” She caught Melissa’s hands clenching into fists at her sides and knew the woman was angry but, to be honest, she had enough on her own plate to worry about. “You don’t understand why I am the way I am, it’s not my job to make you understand, it’s  your job to just let me be and let me handle things the way I want to handle them. Whether they’re healthy or not. I don’t much care, but they’re mine. Now, can I go, or are you gonna use one of those fists?”

When Melissa flushed and stared down at her hands in shock, Stiles took her chance and left the house without another word.

“You could be a little nicer, given the circumstances,” she heard and rolled her eyes as she unlocked her car.

“I’m not a nice person, Scotty,” she drawled without looking back.

“Yeah but you are though,” Scott pressed. “But you’re pushing my mom away, you’re arguing with your dad... he’s  dying , why are you wasting your time with him?”

“Scott, do yourself a favour,” she opened her car door and finally looked up at the house. “Shut up.”

Seconds later she was peeling away from the curb.

In the shower she had nothing else to do but think about everything; her dad, Derek, the situation, the pack, the history... everything that had happened to lead up to her stood in that shower and the more she thought, the more the cracks in her armour grew until she realised she’d been holding her breath too long and choked out a sob while attempting to get some air. The floodgates opened at that and she spent the next ten minutes crying into the stream of water. 

She couldn’t believe it was actually happening again.

First her mom, now her dad... Sure, she’d spent the last 10 years out of Beacon Hills to get away from dealing with the residual emotional nightmare that was her mother’s death, but she’d become somewhat numb to that special branch of hurt over the years. This new hurt was fresh, it was raw and had too many facets for her to properly grab a hold of and she could feel it gnawing at her from the inside out. It was terrifying and for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t run from it.

She had to face it.

And that scared her more than anything else.

When she got out of the shower, she put on loose fitting pyjamas (bottoms too long, top with too long arms) and padded out to the kitchen area to make herself some tea. She’d just put the steaming mug on the coffee table and had turned the TV onto something mundane when there was a knock at the door. Without looking up, she waved a hand to move the mountain ash from the threshold, then waved it again to open the door. She heard someone enter and close the door behind them.

She didn’t look up until Derek was stood two feet from where she was sat on the sofa trying to curl into herself and she sighed, loosening her curl and letting him sit down beside her. She even let him wrap an arm around her and pull her close to his side.

“You’re still on my shit list,” she said and he made a noise, acknowledging her words. “The price of admittance to the orphan club is too fucking high, there’s not even any benefits. What the fuck man?”

“It’s a heavy price,” he agreed. “Shitty outcomes too... it makes you think about what you probably should’ve done during the times you had. It’s a heavy weight.”

“You’re a riot,” she rolled her eyes. “You know he tried telling me you were a catch?” she snorted. “Like I didn’t know that already. No one seems to grasp the fact that I’m as pissed off as I actually am. Like - you think I’m just annoyed. But I swear to God if you were anyone else, you’d be dead right now. You have no freaking  idea how lucky you are to be still breathing.” He didn’t comment, just waited for her to continue. “That’s not just personal feelings either, I’m literally on the fence about you on a professional level, because you killed someone in cold blood. I don’t care what reasoning you had or what you heard from him, it was cold blood and you fucking know it - I don’t even care that I  understand why you did it. And yeah, I’ll admit I probably would’ve done the same thing were I in possession of the nifty hearing advantage you’ve got going on but all I saw was a grieving man begging for death and you giving it to him. Ever think the packs he attacked may want retribution? Ever think I might want more information about the methods they used to keep the rabid’s power suppressed and free from the moon’s influence?”

“Would the demon effect the moon’s influence?” Derek asked, curious and Stiles elbowed him.

“That was a question on my list. Ever think about shit like that? No, you didn’t.”

“I was protecting my pack, I’m not going to apologise for that, no matter how many times you call me a murder or a cold blooded killer. I’m not going to say sorry for something I’d do again.” She didn’t reply to the statement but felt herself smile as she let her head drop against his chest.

“I won’t ever get over it,” she admitted after an hour of watching crappy cookery shows on cable that had probably been repeated ten times over the course of the day anyway. “The look on your face, the look on his, the blood... I won’t forget it. It reminds me that you are what you are, despite my dad’s best efforts to convince me otherwise.”

“I’m not a wild animal, Red,” he huffed and she snorted.

“I’m just telling you now. I won’t ever forget.”

“Are you ever going to admit to yourself that the fact that you can’t really order me around like you do anyone else is a point in the ‘pro’ column for the potential of ‘us’?” he asked. She pushed away so she could look at him, eyebrow raised.

“Colour your confidence and paint the fucking town with it,” she muttered with an exaggerated eye roll. “You got stones, I’ll give you that.”

“Is it a crime to know what I want?” he asked. “I have an incredibly enhanced olfactory system, Red, I can smell just how interested you are right now.”

“What can I say?” she drawled, elbowing him again and gesturing at the TV. “Red velvet cupcakes get me hot.”

She saw him cock his head to the side and frown so she waited, patiently and pointedly until he saw fit to share.

“Isaac is calling our courtship, and I quote, ‘fucking weirdass love-hate romance bullshit that probably belongs on a teengirl fandom forum online’. I have no idea what I just said,” he rolled his eyes as Stiles snorted.

“He’s probably right; we’re tragic. And I’m still not saying yes because-”

“I’m still on your shitlist?” he surmised and she would’ve elbowed him  again , but he managed to catch her elbow before it connected. “You don’t have to like what I did, but trust me as an alpha, as the Alpha of my pack, that I was protecting them and others of my kind from the potential threat that alpha posed. I’m never going to change my opinion or regret my decision.”

Another hour went by before either spoke again and this time it was Derek who broke the silence.

“Entry to the orphan club comes with free therapy.”

“You’re a douche,” she snapped without heat and tried to bury herself closer into his hold.  “Thanks ,” she whispered and fell asleep barely ten minutes later.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Her dad died a week later.

She missed it by half a minute, but only because he told her to leave the room. She suspected it was a purposeful act on his part, weak though he was, you didn’t say no to the Sheriff. Melissa had been in with him, as had Scott and Isaac. Stiles wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that but it happened and she couldn’t really do anything about it after the fact. There was a doctor at the house, there to keep her dad comfortable in his final days even though Melissa could’ve done it all herself, the doctor was, apparently, an old family friend and had wanted to be close by anyway.

Stiles knew it had happened when the arms that had embraced her on the front porch of her old family home tensed, pulling her close to their owner’s broad chest.

“I’m sorry,” Derek murmured against her ear and she screwed her eyes shut, her own arms winding around his body and clinging as tightly as she possibly could. She didn’t speak a word for the rest of the day, not as she watched the coroner’s van arrive to pick up her dad’s body, not as it drove away and the rest of the pack were all stood on the porch surrounding her, not even when she let Derek take her car keys from her because her driving at that moment would have been disastrous. She didn’t open her mouth until Derek was standing with her outside her apartment.

“Stay with me?” she asked and he followed her inside.

The funeral would have been small had the entire town not decided now was their time to give something back to the Sheriff that had taken care of their town for so long - in the form of condolences and prayers. Stiles understood why they did what they did, she just didn’t want to hear any of it. She didn’t want to hear their stories, their sorries, their platitudes, well wishes and whatever. She didn’t want to hear any of it. But Melissa had asked her to stick close by.

She’d lasted twenty minutes before she just walked away from an old couple who were regaling her with her father’s heroics. Melissa’s ire was worth the lack of bloodshed, she reasoned.

 

\--- - - - ---

 

Stiles left Beacon Hills a week later, waiting until Derek was out of his own loft and dropped her keys in an envelope with a note asking him to keep an eye on the place. He didn’t try to text her or ring her or make any form of contact with her at all. She did keep in touch with Scott though, and Melissa. She helped Isaac out a few times, gave Erica advice, even had a phone conversation with Boyd once about how he might propose to Erica - she got a subsequent email inviting her to their wedding.

Six months after she’d posted her keys through Derek’s door, she knocked on it and waited. When he opened the door fully, she noted that he wasn’t alone; the rest of the pack plus a pack she’d actually helped out the year before were sat around a large table. When her eyes fell back on Derek, she sighed and dropped her hood.

“I’m out,” she said and he held out a hand for her to take.

She stared at it for a long, silent moment before tentatively reaching out and taking it. 

“Welcome home,” he pulled her close and breathed her in, his arms wrapping around her tightly as she held on for dear life, trembling as it actually hit her.

She  was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think :)
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://www.askthecoconut.tumblr.com/) Come say hi :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


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